Over There
by JinnySkeans
Summary: And they won't come back till it's over, over there. WWII AU. Sasuke/Sakura.
1. Late May or Early June

_It's late May, or early June._

_Not that it matters. Time never matters in war. Or maybe it matters more than anything, just not to him._

_He finds it hard to think that time's any man's friend in places like these, when the world is at war. There aren't seconds, minutes, hours, days. There are bullets and smoke and guns, and there are screams and cries and death and the thunder of bombs and the storm that won't break._

_So time means shit to him._

_Judging by the sudden heat though, surprising with its potency, a sharp change to chillycool spring and a steep collapse into summer, he thinks it's late May, or early June._

* * *

Sasuke inhales deeply on the cigarette, holds it in his mouth, in his lungs, double inhales before blowing it out through his nose. He taps the cigarette benignly, and watches as the cherry detaches and it continues to burn, pieces of ash scattered across the back of his hand.

It isn't a good habit, but he i_s_ a paid killer. For a living, he ends lives for a Good Cause, but Sasuke doesn't know if that is a sound enough excuse for God, and isn't looking forward to the day he meets his Maker and finds out for sure. Maybe you get credit for trying, for shooting for the right side and protecting the weak and defenseless and whatever.

Maybe God understands when the draft's up and your name's on it and you live too far from Canada to make a run for it, and your family doesn't like cowards and neither do you.

Or maybe not. Maybe a killer is a killer is a killer, and Sasuke is fairly sure God doesn't take too kindly to killers.

Sasuke isn't a man of many words; he is barely a man at all, at 21, but just because he doesn't open his mouth very often doesn't mean he isn't thinking. In fact, he is thinking all the time, because there just isn't much else to do on these quiet nights between battles. No men were lost that day, which is always a good sign. It is clear at night, cloudless overhead, and Sasuke finds it easy to look up at the stars and pretend he is in his shithole apartment in New York City. If he tunes out his senses enough, he can easily mistake the background shouts and distant blow of a tank for the late-night cab circus on 134th Street, the far-off explosions for the New Years' fireworks in Times Square.

Sasuke never thought he'd miss it, the Police Academy back in New York City, but he does.

There's a lot of things he misses, fighting this war. Things he never thought he cared enough to miss, but does. Like ballgames at Yankee Stadium, or talkies at the beat-up old theater on 117th. Little things.

Like cigarettes.

So when he gets his hands on a pack (it's hard, even for a captain, to procure such a treasure), he doesn't make them last. Doesn't smoke one a night for 20 nights to savor the taste of tobacco on his tongue.

When he gets his hands on a pack, he smokes the whole goddamn thing all at once and makes believe he isn't afraid of his job.

It's 1942. It's late May, or early June, he thinks, judging from the temperature. He's in France (he's in France, right? Or have they crossed into Germany? No, he's captain, they would have told him) and he isn't sure what he's fighting for, but he thinks it must be important.

Hopes so.

Maybe God understands about the important things.

And maybe he doesn't.

* * *

_She is a doctor._

_She isn't a nurse._

_If they call her a nurse, she will correct them. She will square your shoulders and give them a look that's meant to be haughty, but because her long hair is pink and perfectly curled, and her green eyes are warm and bright, and she's not old enough to drink in the States, and because they say she looks like The Next Ingrid Bergman with a more festive color scheme, they won't take her seriously._

_But she gets the last laugh._

_She knows they'll take her seriously when they come to her with shrapnel in their chest, with eyes falling out and legs blown off and Dr. Haruno save me save me help me save me please, and she will stitch them up and jam their intestines back inside of them and heal them because that's what she does. And she will smile sweetly when they leave her hospital safe and sound and grateful because now they know she's not a nurse._

_She tells herself she doesn't have something to prove._

* * *

It's tedious work here at the hospital, but at least it's a hospital this time.

Last week, she was serving at the medical tents two miles behind the frontlines, close enough to hear the battle and smell the harsh scent of chemicals and death. She knows it's cowardly of her, but she prefers the sterility, the security, of an established hospital.

It's not the best she's ever been to. They're running out of supplies quickly, she and the other doctors. She makes do with what she has, but unless they get a shipment in soon, of surgical needles and bandages and some fucking painkillers because her boys are dying over here, things aren't looking too good.

She's 20 years old. She's a woman. She's recently graduated medical school (Harvard) after graduating premed (Yale) at the age of 18. She's got an IQ off most charts and the tenacity to learn; there isn't an abler physician, a faster diagnostician, a steadier surgeon anywhere in the US of A and probably in Europe, too.

But that's the problem, ain't it. She's 20 years old. She's a woman. All of her accomplishments mean nothing in this harsh environment, mean nothing to the 40-something doctors of the male persuasion, who doubt her at every turn and call her Nurse Haruno.

It grates on her nerves. To know she's come so far to be treated so unfairly.

But Sakura, even though she wants you to call her Dr. Haruno, is not doing this for the accolades.

There is no glory in what she does: back home, the Americans are all clamoring for news on the soldiers, buying bonds for the soldiers, waving flags for the soldiers. People don't often remember that there are medics, nurses, _doctors_ over here as well, and even the best of them (and she knows she is) aren't going to get a standing ovation when they (if they) return back home.

She could have done it for the glory; she could have taken a residency at a city hospital, and really made a name for herself. Raked in the big bucks, because the draft doesn't apply to women so she never had to get on a ship and cross the Atlantic and insert herself in this ruthless world.

But Sakura isn't here for the glory.

Here, as long as her boys, her silly, young, sick, stupid soldierboys know her name, that's all the recognition she needs.

As long as they remember to call her Dr. Haruno.

Because don't let the finger waves and sunny smile fool you:

She's fucking earned it.

* * *

_He don't really like taking orders from his best friend._

_Granted, it ain't his fault or nothin' that he got the promotion: he comes from a long family full of war heroes, all of 'em dyin' for their country and all. And if the Jerries don't let up, he looks to be going the same way. Officers are first to go in a war like this._

_Someday though, he knows Sasuke's gonna take orders from him._

_Oh hell yeah, he will._

_Because Naruto's gonna be President of the US of A someday._

_And that makes him Commander-in-Chief, don't it?_

_And sure he loves Sasuke like a brother, and he'd take a bullet for him and vice versa, but after all this...he's gonna make him clean every latrine in these fucking French fields with his toothbrush._

* * *

Naruto likes it here.

As much as any soldier can like any battlefield, at least, because at night, when the Jerries retreat and the Yankees retreat and there's nothing to do but sit in his barracks and play cards with the others, it ain't so bad.

Sometimes Sasuke (he has to call him 'Captain' but sometimes he slips up and calls him 'Teme') joins in, sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes he hangs out with his men but other times, he's at the medic's tent, or the hospital, or anywhere Dollface is. It ain't really _allowed,_ what everyone knows he's doing, but even if Sasuke's an asshole, Dollface is a sweetheart and ain't nobody gonna tell on _her._

Tonight's one of those nights. Sasuke vanished after showers and Naruto knows where he's going. Off to visit Dollface and make her mad and tease her because she's a doctor and everyone calls her a nurse.

So he's here and it's still nice, because they're playing poker, he and Kiba and Shikamaru and some of the other privates join in, too.

Makes him wish, though, he had his own pretty girl to go home to. He thinks he'd like a girl like Dollface: sweet and funny, sharp enough to keep him in line, and a total dame on top of it. All the soldiers here have taken a shine to her, but she can handle herself, even without Teme glaring at everyone who gives her the once-over and making 'em run laps for no reason.

"You're up, Dogbreath, hit?" he says to Kiba, who glares at him.

"Hit," he says hotly. "And call me Dogbreath one more time, see if I don't give ya the old one-two."

"Aw, stuff it and show your shit!" Naruto laughs. And he slaps his cards on the table. "Read 'em and weep! Three of a kind!"

"Tough tomato, Uzumaki," drawls Shikamaru, revealing three tens and two eights. "Full house."

Kiba groans and folds and so do the other privates because fuck-all, Shikamaru's won _again._

But it's war. So all Naruto really loses is a cigarette and an extra roll from the mess hall. He watches his worldly treasures transferred to Shikamaru's victorious hands and wonders when he can taste apple pie again, warm and covered in ice cream and caramel sauce and-

-and maybe a pretty girl like Dollface.

When he's president, he muses, he thinks he'll make it a law: when a soldier comes home, there's got to be a pretty girl waiting for him with an apple pie and a smile and a "Welcome home, soldier."

Doesn't seem like too much to ask for, when you're stuck in a place like this.

France. 1942. Almost summer.

It'd be an adventure, if it wasn't such a tragedy.

xoxoxo

**note..** New story! I've been wanting to do a war epic for awhile now. Let me know what you think! Love y'all.


	2. Busy Work

Somewhere in France

Late May (or early June) 1942

SASUKE

He thinks maybe he might've liked France, if France liked him.

But France hates everyone who ain't French, and even if the sprawling countryside is gorgeous and Paris must be to die for (he's fighting for it like it is anyhow), the French don't take too kindly to foreigners. Even American ones, here to save their country.

It ain't like Sasuke can blame them much. They didn't ask Germany to invade Paris and conquer it.

There's not much to do these days. They're between battles, waiting on word from the commander where to go, what to do, who to kill. It's a good day to deliver supplies to the hospital, or at least that's what he tells himself and his troop as he takes the keys and gets in the truck and goes.

It's scut work he's doing. A busy job he could have easily assigned to any single one of his subordinates; it's raining now, and the roads are muddy and the driving's somewhat difficult. It's an assignment he could have easily passed onto somebody else.

But Sasuke's an officer because he doesn't do things by halves. He goes all the way, puts his heart and body into everything he does. Sticks his neck out, takes responsibility, takes control.

It doesn't hurt that Slim's working at the hospital today. And maybe there's a chance he'll see her. But that is, of course, secondary to this mission. Delivering the materials to the hospital is priority one.

And if he sees the girl he might marry if they both survive the horror of this pretty country that doesn't want them there, then that's just gravy.

* * *

The hospital is dearly lacking in supplies. Sasuke's not sure what they need, probably bandages and morphine and shit. The Jerries make sure to send the American doctors plenty of men to work on; Sasuke will do his best to ensure the doctors have plenty to work _with._

He pulls up to the rear of the hospital to make the delivery, and makes a mental note to grab some petrol before he makes the return journey to his troop's barracks later that evening. He's put Naruto in control of his men while he's gone so they should all be sufficiently entertained, which means he has a little extra time to make sure the delivery is made in its entirety.

He parks the truck and jumps out, his boots squelching in the mud, and is immediately swarmed by a gaggle of nurses, who apparently received word that he would be making the dropoff and have elected to greet him personally.

They're squealing and tittering and hanging off his arm, his waist, his neck and he's abruptly angry. No matter where he goes, no matter what country and city and time of year and place, he has to deal with women like this. Irritating. Waste of time. Maybe he shouldn't have come here, and….

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE ALL DOING?" a booming female voice snaps from the back door of the hospital, and Sasuke smirks.

Seems Slim's checking in her delivery herself.

Everyone turns back around to face the most unintimidating-looking woman in the history of the world.

She looks like a movie star, five foot nothing and long pink hair rolled into flawless curls at her ears and bouncing at her shoulders. Rain has no effect on the style. She's got a figure to die for and a face for the big screen, but her features are pulled tight in her anger, her hands are on her labcoat-covered hips and you get the impression that she's not the kind of dame to screw around with.

"Could someone please explain to me," she growls, "why I have seven nurses who are too incompetent to note that there is an _officer_ on deck, delivering a much-needed medical supply truck to a hospital that is _keeping our boys alive,_ and no one has the fucking sense to sign in the delivery?"

"Sorry, ma'am," comes the humbled chorus.

"Make yourselves useful," she hisses, "by unloading Captain Uchiha's truck. Anything that's too heavy, call in some of the doctors to help you. Where's the sign sheet?"

"Here, ma'am," Sasuke drawls, as nurses detach themselves from his body left right and center, and he makes a beeline for the petite little doctor with the wildfire temper. He offers her a cilpboard with the truck's inventory listed clearly, everything organized.

She takes it from him with a grateful smile.

"Thanks, Captain," she says, sounding relieved, and this is one of the reasons Sasuke likes her so much. She's a hardass, she's a slave driver, she's a taskmaster and she expects nothing less than the best from those she works with, but she's also ruled by her compassion. And beyond her love of putting her underperforming subordinates in their place, she loves helping out the soldiers. Her boys, she calls 'em. "You have no idea how much we needed this shipment."

"Anytime, ma'am," Sasuke returns. He lets his eyes drift over her ensemble, and smirks.

She wants to be taken seriously as a doctor, but she walks around in tight skirts and smart heels and a button-down blouse beneath her labcoat. She looks like she just walked off the set of a Bogart picture and slid on a labcoat to try and look the part.

Still, he ain't complaining. Slim's a knockout, she can wear whatever she wants far as he's concerned.

She moves to the truck and grabs a box full of antiseptic creams and lifts it easily (she's stronger than she looks), but he's a gentleman even if he doesn't think he is and grabs it out of her hands.

"Where to, ma'am?" he asks.

"You sure you're Captain Uchiha and not a Jerry impersonator?" she shoots back with a teasing smile that makes this whole hot day and long drive worth it. "Because I could've _sworn_ I just had an officer ask me if I need help carrying this little ol' box to my office."

He rolls his eyes, but Slim's a doctor, and he can't blatantly disrespect her in front of her subordinates by telling her how annoying she is.

"Your office, ma'am?"

"Why yes, Captain," she replies, catching his eyes and there's something stirring in his stomach and he thinks if he was the marrying type, it'd be to a girl like Slim. "It's right this way, I'll escort you."

Then she whirls around to face the other nurses who have started to talk and mumble and point at the doctor and the captain like they know what's going on, and there's _no mercy_ in her green eyes as she snaps, "I want every box labeled in the supply closet, bandages distributed to the operating theaters, and see that Dr. Roquefort receives the butterfly needles he's requested to deal with in Clinic 6. _Immediately._ Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am!" sings the choir, and Sasuke, shouldering the box that ain't too heavy for Slim, follows after her inside the hospital.

Her heels clack smartly on the tile floors and echo through the halls. He watches as she checks in each room, even those that already have doctors and nurses assigned to them, watches as she adjusts ivs and asks questions and fluffs pillows and _smiles._ He doesn't say anything, just watches her work, watches her smile and sees her compassion and wonders _what_ she's doing over here.

What draws a dame like Slim to this hell? What is a girl with a brain like hers, a puss like hers, a heart like hers doing in this place where boys fight and die and there's no end in sight?

He doesn't know, but he wants to find out. Maybe that's why he follows her into her office. Maybe that's why she shuts the door behind them.

Maybe that's why he leaves the box on her desk and grabs her waist and pulls her in for a scorching kiss.

* * *

Slim might look fragile but she ain't. He's kissing her hard but she's kissing him back just as hard, her little hands in his hair and her hips flush against his and a breathy little moan escapes her and drives him crazy. Then she giggles and pulls back a little, enough to look up in his eyes and take his breath away with her smile.

"Why, Captain," she says, going for 'affronted' but coming off 'adorable.' "I do believe you're mixing business with pleasure!"

Sasuke smirks. "Who says I'm _pleased_, Slim?"

Her eyes flash, she knows his game, and she's good at it. She dances back out of his grasp and returns her attention to the box he's carried in for her.

"Well in that case, I'll just make sure this shipment isn't _lacking_ and send you on your way," she says coolly. "Wouldn't want to waste anymore of your precious time, soldier."

If Sasuke likes her when she kisses him, he _loves_ her when she messes him around. He's behind her in a second, arms winding around her tiny waist as he kisses her neck, her jaw, everything he can reach.

"Don't be like that, kid," he mutters.

"Full of yourself," she scolds without any real venom. "Come to see me and for what? So you can tell me I can't _please_ you?"

"Hark who's talkin'," he counters. "You think I came all this way for _you?_"

"You and I both know you could've easily had Naruto or Kiba or one of the other men make this delivery, it's hardly the responsibility of an _officer,_" she replies with a roll of her eyes, twisting around in his grip to face him with eyes that say _You don't fool me._

"You're all right, kid," he tells her and she giggles because this is their game, and there ain't too many games you can play in wartime.

Slim's dangerous. She's dangerous for a guy like him, who thought he wasn't the marrying kind before he was drafted and now he's rethinking it. She's dangerous with her pretty eyes and her pretty smile and her pretty little walk. She could bring him to his knees, he thinks, if she put a mind to it.

For now, though, she's a good time. Fun and funny, a welcome distraction to his shitstorm of a life, to this constant stasis of uncertainty. He doesn't know if he'll even wake up tomorrow, so spending rainy days with a girl like Slim is as much a blessing as a guy can get in a place like this.

They can sort out the messy details tomorrow.

If tomorrow ever comes, for them.

* * *

He takes her out for dinner since she's got the night off. They find a nice little café in the village, and they eat French food he wishes was American and talk about things but not the war; they save that kinda talk for the after-dinner cigarettes.

She passes him one and retrieves one for herself. He flicks his lighter open for her and watches as she inhales on her Lucky Strike, watches as she flips the smoke around in her mouth before exhaling with a contented sigh. He does the same, and then she asks her questions.

"Know where you're headed next?"

He doesn't. He never does. Hell, he doesn't even know where he _is._

"Hn," he replies with a single shake of his head. Damn if Slim don't have the best-tasting cigarettes in all of Europe.

She sighs, displeased apparently, and Sasuke knows she's a soft touch. She doesn't like being away from his unit, what with so many of her friends making it up. She really doesn't like being away from _him,_ even if the sentiment won't ever come from her snarky little mouth.

But what she says definitely doesn't translate to the way she communicates on the sheets, so he fills in the blanks for himself.

"How's Naruto?" she asks. "Kiba?" she adds. "Shikamaru and all the others. I hope someone's been checking on Shikamaru's tendon injury, it wasn't patched up the way I wanted it last time I saw him."

He grins. "Slim, baby, we should just bring you along with us on account a' ain't doctor gonna measure up to your standards."

"I wish you would," she replies, more serious than joking even though her eyes are light. "God knows you could use someone to make sure Naruto eats _something_ besides those awful instant ramen cups! And I know for a _fact_ Kiba never did his rehabilitation exercises after his knee injury back in Vichy! And _you,"_ she adds, like he's the worst offender, "need me around more than any of them combined!"

"You know what, kid? I ain't gonna disagree with you."

She looks satisfied with that. That even if they're gonna be separated again, it's good enough that he says he needs her. Like the sentiment is good enough.

Sasuke looks outside the chilly little café at the rainy night sky and thinks it's gonna have to be.

* * *

There's teasing as soon as he gets back to his barracks. The guys aren't fooled by his sorry ass excuse to visit the hospital, but it's something he thinks he can tolerate, their teasing. Because every guy in that whole troop and probably the army and maybe on the Jerries' side, too wishes they had the chance to spend time with a dame like Slim.

"So how was your day with _Dollface?_" Naruto laughs, elbowing him in the side as he heads in to the showers.

"I delivered the medical shipment the hospital needed," Sasuke intones automatically and it fools _no one._

"You know that's busy work," Kiba chuckles. "Not that I blame you, though, Dollface is worth the trip! Did she tell you to tell us anything?"

"Yeah!" Naruto chimes in. "What did she say to us?"

"Tch. She said Shikamaru should have someone check his tendon, Inuzuka should do his rehab stretches, and you, dobe, should eat something besides ramen."

That shuts all of 'em up, and Sasuke smirks as he heads to his private quarters. He doesn't know if he'll see Slim again anytime soon. He doesn't know if he'll see her again at _all._

But going to sleep thinking he might? Well, that's something that can get him through the night and onto the next day.

In a time like this, a world like this, uncertainty is the only guarantee, and Sasuke has _no idea_ what's going on in his life. He has no power, even with his own troop, and he has no control, even if they say he's in charge. He has no direction, and no future outside this shithole war against Germany. So when fate or God or whatever hands him something…some_one_…like Slim?

Someone that makes him think getting through this war is worth it?

Well he ain't gonna take it lightly.

It's somewhere in France, in late May, early June. Doesn't matter. Sasuke decides he's in love.

Slim left him her pack of Lucky Strikes after dinner.

**note..** Hey, strangers :)


	3. Unannounced, Uninvited, Unwelcome

June 3rd, 1942

Northern France

SAKURA

He's gone back to his barracks now, and she's get back to her patients anyway. Even if she works 100 hours a week and more than deserves a nice dinner with a smart-aleck army captain, this ain't Philadelphia. It's wartime, and France is crawling with Jerries and Nazis and she needs to be with her boys now.

Each step away from Captain Uchiha is harder than the last, because Sakura, charged with keeping the Americans alive, knows as well as he does that as far as they're concerned, tomorrow is never guaranteed. They're laying in wait now for orders from the Major, and they could very well lay idle in the French countryside until the war's over, safe and sound.

Or they couldn't.

Sakura doesn't like being separated from Sasuke's platoon. She got to know them very well, serving as one of the supervising physicians at their boot camp back in America. When they were deployed, she requested to go as well, knowing the silly, arrogant American fools would need someone to keep them in line.

Sasuke more than the rest of them.

Like a gentleman, he'd escorted her back to the hospital. He didn't carry his pistol in the open, but he kept a hand on it in his pocket for reassurance. Sasuke, it seemed, never quite forgot where they were at, even if she did, sometimes. Even if she lost herself to the dreaminess of a date gone right with a handsome soldier, he never put it out of his head that this is a warzone.

He didn't kiss her good night, because someone might see and army doctors ain't supposed to fraternize with army captains even if Sakura knows everyone knows. And he doesn't say goodbye because that's an unspoken mutual agreement. There ain't never gonna be a goodbye between them.

He just looked at her with that crooked smile and said, "'Night, Slim, baby. Take care."

Sakura knows she loves him, and she suspects he might love her back, and she also knows, until this blasted war is over, that it isn't enough.

Love can't save them from uncertainty.

So she puts him from her mind (he'll work his way back there eventually, always does) and steps into her office to grab a labcoat and her clipboard and resigns herself to the night shift. Because death doesn't stop for dinner dates, and neither can she.

* * *

His name is Dr. Yakushi.

He's a respected surgeon from London, young and successful and revered for his talent in a way Sakura can never be, because she's female. He's her direct superior.

Sakura respects his talent. This is first and foremost. She is required to maintain constant professionalism, and to submit to his orders without question.

Sakura respects him as much as she despises him.

He appears in her office unannounced, her surgeries uninvited, her lunch breaks unwelcome. Each time, he arrives under the pretense of desiring a professional medical discussion, but Sakura reads the naked desire in his eyes. She does not miss the errant touches he dismisses as purely accidental, but that leave her skin crawling all the same.

Dr. Yakushi asks that she call him 'Kabuto.' She won't.

Dr. Yakushi smiles at her like she's the most amusing thing he's ever come across, put on this Earth purely to entertain him with her snarky retorts that would get her censured at any other station in the military. He does not try to hide the want in his eyes that has her looking over her shoulder at odd times throughout the day, the chilling possessiveness that makes moments away from Sasuke seem even more uncertain.

And, naturally, the moment she leaves Patient 341 (a twenty-four-year-old kid named Andy from San Antonio with shrapnel in his spine) to check on Patient 199 (an eighteen-year-old high school boy from Fargo named Sid who might lose his arm), there is Dr. Yakushi, smirk in place as dark eyes roam her figure and her gaze hardens.

He's tall, much taller than her, though Sasuke's probably got a good inch or so on him. Silvery-white hair is pulled back into a professional-looking ponytail, horn-rimmed glasses rest crookedly on an upturned nose. Expensive-looking spats and an expensive-looking suit beneath his labcoat, well-shined shoes that appear brand new, he looks every bit the wealthy young professional.

"Dr. Yakushi," she says, stiffly, a sharp contrast to the sweet, sisterly tone she uses on her boys. She inclines her head politely, but does not remove her gaze from his, because you never want to lower your guard around an enemy. (This, she learned from the war.) "Good evening. How may I assist you?"

They're polite words, practiced words. What any subordinate doctor would say to her superior.

They are also laced with venom, and Dr. Yakushi, it seems, does not miss it. His smirk widens in pleasure.

"Good evening to you as well, Dr. Haruno," he replies, the tone of his voice cloyingly sweet, and even if he remembers to call her 'doctor', she hates him. "I trust you are well?"

"Very well, thank you," she returns. "If that is all, please excuse me."

She prepares to move past him down the hallway, but he catches her arm. She glares at him, ripping her arm from his grasp with no pretense of civility, because _she will not be touched_ by anyone other than Sasuke, even if she's never told him as much.

"Actually, I wanted a word with you, if you have the time," he says pleasantly, like he hasn't seen the aggression on her face. "Privately," he adds.

"With all due respect Dr. Yakushi, I'm in the middle of my rounds, and-"

"Ah, forgive me, Dr. Haruno, I'm certain I meant to inform you beforehand that I am not merely _requesting_ this conversation."

"I-"

"That's an _order,_ Dr. Haruno." He keeps the smirk on his face, victorious this time, because even if Sakura finds his presence repulsive, she is required to follow orders from her superior.

Envisioning the expression he will wear on that smarmy face the day she finally plunges her scalpel into his chest, her lip curls and she says stiffly, "Yes, sir."

"Excellent," Dr. Yakushi says. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his ring finger and gestures towards his office. "After you, Doctor."

Sakura does not turn her back on her enemies, so she declines to lead the way to Dr. Yakushi's office. Instead, she trails behind him, eyes wary, because the moment you relax your guard around a snake, is the moment his fangs will pierce your neck.

Dr. Yakushi, chuckling at some unheard joke most likely at her expense, opens the door to his office and invites her inside. He moves to his chair behind a beautiful mahogany desk (that had to have cost the hospital thousands, Sakura notes bitterly, thinking how many medical supplies could have been purchased with that money) and gestures politely to one of the chairs in front of it.

She takes a seat as dictated. The chair is plush and comfortable, and she wants to throw it out the window because _how dare he use hospital money to furnish his fucking office._

"Now, Dr. Haruno," he says, shuffling some papers around, "it's come to my attention that Patient 207…"

"Francois Moreau," she interjects immediately. (Because they may be numbers to Dr. Yakushi, but to her they are people, and she knows Francois's story, knows he is a French villager who came afoul of a land mine and now she's patching him up to take back to his family, and-)

"Indeed." He cuts off her train of thought, regarding her like a puzzle he's trying to piece together, head leaning slightly to the left and glasses slipping down his nose. "As I was saying, it's come to my attention that Patient 207 is not a soldier."

"He's not," Sakura confirms. "Sir," she adds spitefully.

"Then my dear sweet Doctor, might I ask what he is doing in my hospital?"

"Monsieur Moreau received debilitating injuries from a German land mine while working the fields near his home in the village," Sakura recites coldly. "I remember the Hippocratic Oath, Dr. Yakushi, and I will not deny a man medical attention when he requires it. Most especially when he is an innocent civilian."

"Ah, but my dear girl, it is _because_ he is an innocent civilian that he has no place in a military hospital. Your warm-hearted decision to admit him has cost this hospital thousands of army dollars."

"He would have been a civilian _casualty_ without receiving immediate medical care," Sakura snaps back, her tone rising as she thoroughly abandons all pretense of politeness. She wants to let loose on him Philadelphia-style, complete with all sorts of cringe-worthy words that would wipe the smirk right off his face, but restrains herself. "What would you have had me do? Leave him to die?"

Dr. Yakushi's smile never falters. He leans back in his office chair and chuckles.

"Why Sakura. I'm surprised at you. Dr. Tsunade's prized pupil, as talented as they come, and you still cling to this naïve, childish belief that you can save everyone."

He's talking down to her. He's condescending. And she _hates_ him, because he can call her doctor all he wants to, he still sees her as nothing more than a woman.

"That could not be farther from the truth, _Dr. Yakushi._ I do not believe I can save everyone but I will never turn my back to someone who needs my help! And if it's military funds you're so worried about, I'd advise you to _sell this fucking furniture_."

She's on her feet and entirely unashamed of her unladylike swear as she stares him down with all the hatred she can muster.

"I will continue providing care to Monsieur Moreau and every other civilian who comes to this hospital for aid, for as long as I'm stationed here," she hisses. "Is there anything else you require from me, _Dr. Yakushi?_"

And he meets her gaze evenly with his smirk widening in spite of her rage, and he says, "I require you to call me Kabuto from now on."

She's out the door without a word of acknowledgement. His laughter rings in her ears behind her.

* * *

She regrets losing her temper. She should not have disrespected Dr. Yakushi so egregiously, even if he deserved it; she knows that there will be consequences for what she said further down the line, and all there is to do is wait for them.

She wishes she hadn't left her cigarettes with Sasuke. She wants to smoke a whole pack right now and forget she works here.

Instead, she storms into her office and slams the door shut behind her hard enough to make one of her pictures fall off the wall. The frame shatters as it hits the floor and Sakura cusses colorfully, since she doesn't allow herself many expenses here but that picture frame is one of them.

She lifts the black-and-white photo from the mess of broken glass and eyes it fondly, feeling some of her anger melt away just by taking in the faces smiling back at her from a happier time.

It's her boys, from Sasuke's company, posing with her back at boot camp in the States. There's Naruto, with his eyes bright and happy, his arm slung around her shoulders while she smiles as wide as she can because she's happy with them around her. There's Shikamaru, chain-smoking and way too lazy to smile at the camera, and Kiba grinning big enough for both of them.

And there's Sasuke, arms folded, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth as he smirks not at the camera, but at Sakura, and she _loves_ this picture.

Seeing the reason why she puts up with all this shit makes being here a little more bearable.

* * *

Sakura knows she should tell Sasuke about Dr. Yakushi.

She knows what he does is wrong, and she should tell the boy she trusts most in the world about this villain that's been circling her like a vulture waiting to strike.

She knows that she and Sasuke are an item in everything but name and that he'd want to know about a guy getting too fresh with her, especially when it's her direct superior. She knows how protective Sasuke is over her. She knows how angry he'd be if he found out about Dr. Yakushi.

But she can't tell him. She resolves never to breathe a word about it because Sasuke has enough to worry about. He's responsible for an entire company of soldiers, many of whom are his closest friends. He should be focused on keeping himself and everyone else alive, on wiping out as many obstacles as he can to getting back to the States where he belongs.

He cannot afford to be distracted by what's going on at this hospital.

She makes this promise to herself as she tucks in for the night. There's a cot in her office and a lock on her door, so she feels safer, if not from the Germans than at least from her amorous boss. She pulls the blankets up to her shoulders and wishes Sasuke were here, but sends up a prayer to whoever's listening that he'll be around tomorrow.

She doesn't want to think about the alternative.

* * *

**note..** Hi, everybody! Hope you enjoyed this latest installment. This story's inspired by the historical fiction of one of my favorite movies Inglourious Basterds (if you haven't seen this yet, get off the computer and go enlighten yourself!) and by the fact that I'm head over heels in love with the 1930's and 1940's. In case you were wondering! :)

Working on Camp Konoha at the moment. I know it's been forever but for me, second chapters are always the hardest to write, and then I pick up speed after that. Ugh sorry to keep you waiting I suck it sucks to suck.

LOVE YOU. Let me know what you think, biddies! :)


	4. International Lines

Summer

France

NARUTO

He's not necessarily _jealous_ of his best friend.

Dollface is as pretty as they come, of course, and everybody loves her. Plus, she makes the bastard smile every now and then, and Naruto is many things, but he is a friend first, and as such, he only wants the best for his best friend. So he approves of Dollface and he's not jealous of their relationship (even if they say they don't have one.)

But now that Sasuke's been tied down by a lady friend (he'll deny it but come _on)_, that leaves a lot of time for Naruto to reflect on how much he'd like one, too.

Shikamaru's been linked to a feisty blonde USO dancer who came through their station back in Italy. He denies it same as Sasuke does, but Naruto's seen the perfume-scented stationery that Blondie's been writing on to him and knows that when he disappears to the mail room, he's shipping out a letter of his own.

When Naruto confronts him, Shikamaru rolls his eyes.

"If you're so desperate for a girlfriend," he says, "why don't you do that Write-a-Soldier project?"

"I'm not desperate," Naruto mutters back. And he isn't. He just wants to have someone waiting for him back at home. That's ain't so wrong, is it? "And what the hell are you on about?"

Shikamaru sighs, like he's explaining complicated math to an elementary school student, and says, "Girls back in the States send letters to random soldiers. Sometimes there's a connection, see. Worked out pretty well for my friend Chouji in Italy. He's been sending letters back and forth to a cook in Nashville. Ayame something-or-other."

Naruto's interest is caught, but it's not like he's all that great at writing letters. Still, it could be something to occupy his time whenever his bastard captain best friend runs off to canoodle with the pretty doctor.

So Shikamaru directs him to the mail room. And Naruto thinks that maybe this is just a silly waste of time. Who can fall in love with someone they ain't never even met before?

Still, he asks the mail clerk about the program. The clerk grins like he knows a joke and he ain't sharin', and Naruto's suspicious as he's handed a giant bag full of letters. Various envelopes, different colors, some of 'em spritzed with perfume like the kind Shikamaru gets from that USO floozy.

"Pick one, Private," the clerk says cheerfully. "Meet your new lady!"

Naruto shoves his hand into the bag and seizes a letter at random. He waits until he's away from the all-knowing eyes of the creepy mail clerk, back in his barracks, lying on his cot, before checking the name of the girl he hopes could be a good distraction for him.

Hinata Hyuuga.

Weird name.

He opens the envelope (it's just white with a stamp on it, no perfume or anything fancy) and begins to read.

* * *

"Dear Soldier,

Hello there! My name is Hinata Hyuuga. I'm 20 years old, and I'm from Boston. It's a pleasure to meet you, whoever you are.

I attend Wellesley College, and they offered a number of us the opportunity to write letters to soldiers stationed overseas. I thought it was a lovely idea; there isn't much else we can do to support the war effort outside of buying bonds and dancing for the USO. My father's been buying as many bonds as we can afford, and I can't dance to save my life, so I figured this is something I can do to support you all.

The radio isn't always clear about what's happening over there. It's hard to learn what's going on for sure, if we're winning or losing or close to the end of the war. I truly hope it's going well, and that all of you brave soldiers can return home safely!

How rude of me, I've told you many things about me, but asked practically nothing about you! What's your name? How old are you? Are you married, do you have any children, any brothers or sisters back here? Where are you from? What are your likes or dislikes?

I hope you'll write back, soldier, and please take care! We are all proud of you and thank you so, so much for serving our country!

Sincerely,

Hinata Hyuuga"

* * *

Naruto reads the letter again in its entirety. Then a third time. Then he stares at the girlish signature at the bottom of the paper, eyes tracing the cursive letters that spell out the name of the girl he's going to be communicating with from now on, and he wonders if this is what it's like to be in love.

He'll have to ask the bastard.

* * *

They're playing poker again when it happens.

There's word from the major over the phone. Orders.

Sasuke takes the call. It's brief, and the relaxation in his face melts off like molasses, and Naruto is wary of the grim expression that takes its place.

"Yes, sir," he says into the phone, and he hangs it up on the wall, and snaps to attention, facing his men with nothing on his face but seriousness as he barks out, "Look sharp, we're shippin' out!"

The poker game is forgotten. (Naruto was winning, but that doesn't matter right now.) Instead, he and the other privates rush around the room tugging on their olive green uniforms grabbing their standard-issue machine guns and don't forget your helmet Naruto and then his boots are laced up and they're racing outside to the convoys that will take them on to their next destination.

Naruto's itching for…something. Maybe not a fight, because even if it's in the job description, he doesn't like killing people. Even Nazis.

But after all these days of inactivity, of waiting around for something to happen, he's restless. He's starting to wonder why they sent him all the way to France to sit around and play cards, when he coulda done that back in New York, but now something's happening. He doesn't know where he's going. If the bastard knows, he ain't sayin'.

Either way, he hopes it's something big. Something worth telling Miss Hinata back in Boston all about.

The convoy travels all through the night. No one sleeps, everyone's either nervous-chattering (the kinda non-stop talk folks do when they're real nervous-like) or quiet and staring out the flaps on the back of the truck. Sasuke's in front with the driver, and Naruto tries to listen to what they're talking about, but can't hear much.

When they stop, the privates file out in order and stand at attention to wait for news. This is where the difference between a captain and his privates is most obvious; usually, Sasuke blends in with everyone, plays poker and exercises like he's just one of them.

But he isn't. He's a captain and captains got to give orders and information they may not like. And Naruto looks at Sasuke, who doesn't show any emotion at all on his face other than this subtle kind of pain in his eyes as he says to the company,

"We crossed international lines to Germany," he reports.

No one says anything (they're at attention and there's an officer on deck) but Naruto feels like he's about to explode. They've crossed into Germany, where there's fighting and actual battles, not the little skirmishes they've been getting into back in France.

He doesn't know if he should be more scared than he is, or less excited. But shit, something's about to happen, he can feel it! Something big, something monumental. Something worth writing Miss Hinata about! They're in the thick of it now, real war, real battles, glory and fame and killin' Nazis!

Still, Naruto sees the pain in Sasuke's eyes, even as he recounts orders on where to make camp, and where they will be heading to in the morning. And he recognizes that Sasuke ain't so keen on what's about to happen.

Maybe it's 'cuz Sasuke lost kinfolk in wars. His older brother snuffed it in Pearl Harbor. His grandfather died in World War One, in Italy, if he remembers right. An uncle was killed in a training exercise back in the States. Maybe wars ain't exciting at all to Sasuke, who knows firsthand how dangerous it is.

Or maybe it's cuz they crossed lines into Germany, and he had to leave Dollface behind in France.

Either way, the pain in Sasuke's eyes tames the excitement in Naruto's heart a little, but not by too much.

Cuz shit, they've been in Europe for months, and Naruto thinks maybe the real fun's about to start.

They're gonna move out later in the day. For now, they're safe from the Jerries, concealed in a dense forest and planning their next move.

Sasuke won't tell them exactly where they are. That information's need to know, classified.

(Naruto thinks he deserves to know where he might get his ass killed. So do the other soldiers.) But his opinion ain't mean much, he's just a private.

Sasuke does tell them that at night, they're gonna engage with a company of Jerries. "Engage" is fancy war-speak for _they're gonna ambush the Nazis and kill 'em._

The brass back in the States has information that there's gonna be a German outfit crossing paths with them in the forest. But Sasuke managed to get the high ground, which means the Germans should be approaching from the valley.

In short, sittin' ducks. 20 less Germans to worry about.

Supposin' everything goes right, that is. One of them Germans is bound to get a lucky shot in, wound one of them, maybe kill. But Sasuke's a good captain, and Naruto's a good soldier, and all the others are good soldiers, too. They're trained up right, and they won't go down without a fight.

It's the calm before the storm, kind of. Sasuke's cleaning his gun. Shikamaru's smoking the last of the cigarettes he won off the others from poker. Kiba's pacing back and forth, and he looks crazy almost, bloodlust and whatever. Naruto's seen it happen here. You get so fed up with how slow things are, and how bad things are getting, that all you wanna do is smoke some Nazis.

So Naruto decides now's as good a time as any to write back to Miss Hinata.

* * *

"Dear Miss Hinata,

Howdy ma'am! Naruto Uzumaki at your service!

Got your letter just last night. A Boston girl, huh? I'm a New York City boy, so as long as you ain't a Red Sox fan, I'd say you're all right by me!

Even if you are a Red Sox fan, you're all right. Real sweet like. Besides, we're in a real war here. And even Yankees and Red Sox gotta band together, right? Buncha baseball players enlisted, that's why they got that All American Girls Professional Baseball League back home, right?

I'm 21, Miss Hinata, and back home, I'm a cop. Or, trainin' to be a cop anyways, before the draft. My best friend Sasuke and me. Now we're in Germany. Just left France! France is nice, I bet you'd like France, most girls do. Sasuke's girl likes it just fine, anyway. She's a doctor! Real young, though.

Didn't expect to be drafted. I don't think none of us did. One day we're doing our own thing, going to school or work or whatever, and the next we're in training and we got the President tellin' us it's our civic duty and a national honor and whatever. But if it's such an honor, why'd he force us to come?

Either way, I guess I can't complain. I get to see the world, right? And I'm with my friends and we're killin off Nazis and makin' the world a better place. Right? I been to France, and Italy, and Spain, and a little time in Poland but not much, and now I'm in Germany! Not bad for a guy who ain't ever left New York City before now!

I think it's real sweet how girls like you send letters to guys like me. Gives us something to think about that ain't just shrapnel and snipers. Gives us something to remember home by, and think on how there's a buncha sweet girls like you countin' on us bein' here. Means an awful lot, Miss Hinata.

Hopin' you'll write back, ma'am! Tell me more about yourself! A college girl, wow! Only one I ever met before is Sasuke's girl. Dollface. You must be smart! Whatcha studyin' for, anyways?

-Naruto Uzumaki"

* * *

The letter is sealed and sent to the shipping department, which is basically the truck that took them to Germany making a return trip to France.

Sasuke pretends he doesn't see Naruto send his letter.

Naruto pretends he doesn't see Sasuke send his. (They're best friends, see.)

And they get ready for the battle because once the letters are out, it's back to business, and war ain't gonna wait for them to miss two sweet American girls around the world.

Something's about to happen. Naruto knows it.

He just crosses his fingers and hangs onto his gun and hopes that it's something good.

Something he can write about to Miss Hinata.

* * *

**note..** Hey, dollfaces. :) Sorry to keep you waiting on Camp Konoha and Vista (sequel to Horizon) but both of those should be out by the weekend. I'm nearly over my writer's block. Thanks for tolerating my lack of inspiration/discipline!

xoxo Daisy (get at me, y'all.)


	5. Soldiers

Somewhere in Germany

Late May, Early June

SASUKE

Slim doesn't know about the picture.

It's a secret Sasuke shares with no one, maybe the only secret he's got left in the world. His whole…whatever with Slim is supposd to be a secret but he knows his entire platoon knows. He knows all the other doctors and nurses, hell, even the patients Slim works with know about them. So it should be a secret, but it ain't.

The picture, though, that's a secret, and one he fully expects to take to his grave.

Anyway, the picture is black and white and crinkled at the corners, seared on the edges from cigarettes or gunfire, he ain't sure which. It's beat half to hell much like the Americans, but it's also the only thing he carries with him that ain't extra ammunition for his machine gun.

He keeps it in his chest pocket. He can take it out and look at it whenever he pleases, and in the combat zone, he makes sure it's always easily accessible. (You never know when you're gonna snuff it out there, see, and that means you never know when you're gonna need to find the thing you want to look at in your last moment in this world.)

And Sasuke's decided that since Slim's just about the finest thing he's seen in 21 years, she's gonna be that special last thing he looks at, if and when, the war finally kills him like wars always kill Uchihas.

The picture was taken without her knowledge. She ain't even looking the camera's way, matter of fact. Instead, she's sitting on the beach with her hair loose and curly, head thrown back in laughter, and he thinks it might be the most beautiful thing in Europe, this kooky American doctor girl laughing on the beach like they ain't at war or something.

Sasuke thinks it gives him something to fight a little harder for. He can't die, and let the Jerries get their Jew-killin' hands on the picture of Slim, she's a peach. But he's a realist, and knows that sheer willpower ain't gonna be enough to keep him or his men alive. (Naruto, incidentally, might be the only creature on God's green Earth who could keep himself alive just because he _willed_ it to happen.)

Point is, just because he ain't _ready_ to die doesn't mean he _won't._

So even if he doesn't want the Jerries to know about sweet Dr. Haruno, a fine little number from Philadelphia with a heart of gold, he keeps her picture in his chest pocket anyway. Because it's a fucking war out here, and that means he's gonna need something fine to look at. Just in case.

* * *

They're moving out now. To take out the convoy of German soldiers that doesn't know they're coming.

Sasuke isn't much for prayer. For a New York City kid who lost all of his family, he has about as much faith as any of them do now: barely any. Because if the US of A really is the land of the free and the home of the brave, how come none of them had the choice to come over here in the first place?

What's free about a draft, anyway? What's free about being ripped away from your life, planted in some foreign country with bombs going off and guns firing on all sides and smoke so thick you can't see, and men to protect because someone somewhere thinks you're worth something, and to stay alive, you gotta shoot to kill and worry about the afterlife after death?

Sasuke never wanted to kill anybody.

He doesn't know how God feels about killers. Even if he's killing for country, to save Europe from collapsing in on itself, even if he knows he's shooting for the right side. He hates what's happening over here as much as any of them do, but none of the American politicos back home seemed to care too much about the moral obligation these soldiers have not only to each other, but to their Maker.

Do any of them care? That he's off doing all the dirty work while they keep their hands clean? That someday, he's gonna have to answer for every German soldier he shoots, every life he takes?

Still, he's in charge. The Major's given him orders, and Sasuke trusts the Major. Trusts that whatever the Major tells him to do, he's telling him so they can save all their unprepared American skins.

He's got to trust in that. Without that trust, he's flying blind over here.

"I want snipers up in the trees," Sasuke orders, and he keeps this existential crisis to himself, because morality has no place in the combat zone. He can't worry about petty things like right and wrong and whatever's going to happen to him when he's dead, not with men to look out for. "You're gonna take out as many as you can. Rest of you, conceal yourselves best you can. Pick 'em off when they head for their weapons. No survivors. Understood?"

"Sir yes sir!" comes the chorus. There's no hesitation in their words, nothing but excitement. A quick sweep of his subordinates confirms that Kiba looks almost desperate for blood, that Naruto's as excited for this as he was to catch the Disney picture with the Snow White broad back in the States the day it came out. Shikamaru looks relaxed, even bored, like what's going on is so far beneath him. And the rest of them look determined. No fear. No hesitation.

No doubt.

Sasuke wonders if this makes him a coward, not to share in the pre-battle euphoria. A realist. Whatever. Are his men braver than he is, to embrace the fate Lady Liberty had for them, while he's cautious?

Three snipers take to the trees. Here, above the valley, they've got an excellent vantage point. Unless something goes terribly wrong, this should be relatively easy.

Sasuke knows he's a great shot. He has great military instincts, senses what's coming next and how to counter it, and almost never misses his mark and when he shoots, he shoots to kill. No mercy in the moment. On the battlefield, he's everything an American soldier should be.

Except _sure._

This will be an easy mission, easily completed, minimal risk of death or injury.

It's just what happens after that Sasuke ain't quite so sure about.

So he tips his helmet back out of his eyes and checks the rounds in his gun and takes one quick look at the picture in his chest pocket just for a little extra _something,_ and then the German convoy rolls into position.

Show time.

He puts the picture away, pushes back the reservations and the doubt and the anxiety, and once Slim's out of his sight safe in his pocket, he raises his rifle and takes aim.

Then there's the explosion of gunfire, the spray of blood throughout the valley, shouts in an unintelligible language and shouts in English all around him and it's fucking war now.

He's doing this because he has to. To save his men and himself, he's got to become something he never wanted to be.

Hopefully God will be understanding, someday.

* * *

Everything went off without a hitch, except Shino dying.

Sasuke doesn't feel much as he watches them carry the body away. He knows he should feel something, but this crushing emptiness inside, like his soul's rattling around in his body with nothing to keep it attached anymore, is all he knows.

Shino was a good man. 22, married. A father-to-be, promised to be home in time for his wife's delivery.

He's going home all right. In a shitty-made casket with a folded-up flag on it and the Deepest Condolences of the United States Army. And his widow will give birth alone to a baby that will never know its father because _things went wrong._

It was supposed to be seamless. The plan itself had such a low margin of risk that none of them were really concerned about it. Sasuke had spent so much time worrying about his own worthless mortal soul instead of working out what could go wrong with their attack.

He hadn't counted on Shino's gun jamming last second. None of them had.

But it jammed. Just after they mowed down the first round of the unprepared Germany convoy, it jammed, and he was out there right in the open, exposed and vulnerable and one of the _fucking_ Germans took advantage. It was one bullet, and it hit Shino right between his dark-tinted eyes. He was dead without Sasuke needing to check.

So since Sasuke couldn't save him, he turned cold, murderous eyes on the lucky German bastard who'd shot his friend and with six merciless bullets, blew him straight to hell.

They won. No one else was hurt.

But Shino's dead and it's Sasuke's fault and there's no _running_ from this.

Naruto approaches him and there is _none_ of the usual laughter in his eyes as he watches the soldiers load the body onto the truck.

"He's headin' home, at least," Naruto mutters, unusually serious. "Is that the only way back to New York, teme? In a box?"

"No," Sasuke says quietly. "It can't be," he adds.

He's starting to think that just because it _can't be_, doesn't mean it _won't._

The truck's gone. Orders are coming from the Major to retreat from the area to a safer, untouched village right on the border. Another day, another waiting game.

Shino's on his way home.

Sasuke knows he shouldn't be jealous, but he is.

* * *

"Slim,

Shipping out to Germany. I know you're not gonna be happy, but that's life, ain't it, Slim baby?

You stay safe, you hear me? Keep your nose clean, stay out of trouble. I like you best in that hospital where I know you're all right, waiting to come nag my ear off.

I owe you a pack of Lucky Strikes.

-Sasuke."

* * *

**note..** Falling more and more in love with writing Sasuke. I love the idea of him having this moral debate with himself on the rights and wrongs of what he's doing.

Let me know how you feel about it! (And for those of you who don't know, Phillies have now won four straight, Halladay, Utley, and Howard are all back in the lineup, and we're about to fuck the NL East up left, right, and sideways. I LOVE PHILLIES ALWAYS.)

xo Daisy


	6. Fire

June 18 1942

Paris (For Now)

SAKURA

When Sakura was a little girl, she used to dream about visiting Paris.

The City of Love. The City of Lights. A starry sky behind the Eiffel Tower.

To a little girl raised in a low-rent apartment off Market Street, there was no dream more beautiful than Paris.

She used to picture what she would do when she finally arrived. She dreamt that she would wear her prettiest dress, and set her hair in curls beneath a beret, the way the fancy actresses in all her favorite movies would do. She dreamt that she would fall head over heels in love for a handsome Frenchman, maybe a young prince, and they would be married and she would live a life of boat rides on the Seine and evenings in fancy cafés.

When she was a little girl, Paris was the city of her wildest dreams.

But Sakura isn't a little girl anymore.

* * *

Paris is in her rearview mirror now. And maybe it's for the best.

Dr. Yakushi (she won't ever call him Kabuto, not even in her own thoughts) ordered her abrupt relocation to a remote location somewhere in the south of France, along with himself and a few of the more competent doctors. Part of her is flattered that he finds her valuable enough to send to the rougher south, but she suppresses her flattery beneath boiling hatred.

But she's in a truck with the rest of the doctors, driven by Dr. Yakushi himself, who has solicitously offered her the passenger's seat. To refuse would show weakness, that she is intimidated by his audacity; even if she is, (and she is) she will never let him see how he affects her. She sits beside him stiffly, back ramrod straight, and ignores his knowing chuckle as he drives, like she's there to amuse him.

She's quiet as she looks in the side-view mirror and sees Paris growing smaller and smaller the further they travel into the countryside.

It's gray there. So much gray. There's no life there, except for the German invaders who've made it their own. So much death, so much destruction, and Sakura watches her dream of what Paris might have been melt, bleed into a murky, gray reality she wants nothing to do with.

In her hands, she holds the letter from Sasuke.

It's not much, but it's evidence. Evidence that he was alive a few days ago. Breathing and walking and teasing and bossing people around and smoking the cigarettes she left him accidentally-on-purpose.

The paper smells like him. Like cigarettes and home. His writing is barely legible, and she wonders if he was nervous when he was writing it.

She wonders if the new location she's headed to will be closer to Sasuke. If he's in Germany (she prays he won't be there for very long), perhaps she will be a few miles nearer to him. If she's lucky, he'll be transferred to the base she'll be serving at. Or she'll be transferred to his.

She reads the words she's already memorized again, as the truck bounces along the unpaved road, and she almost hears Sasuke saying them. She can picture the cocky half-smirk he would wear when telling her to keep her nose clean, like he knows so much better than her, even if he's only a few months older.

Sakura tucks the letter back into the folds of her dress and sighs, pointedly ignoring Dr. Yakushi's raised eyebrows at her wistfulness.

She won't say she loves the cocky New York captain.

But she won't say she _doesn't_ either.

* * *

The new base is remote. Isolated.

The hospital is overflowing.

Sakura has no time to reflect on ruined memories of Paris, or handsome soldiers in American uniforms, or evil doctors with watchful eyes behind Coke bottle lenses. She's racing from the truck to the hospital ward and in a matter of seconds, her hands are plunged deep into the chest cavity of a dying British soldier.

There's so much blood, so much death. Sakura shouts orders that everyone's reluctant to obey because she's a woman, but since they're the _right_ orders, the other doctors and nurses cooperate. She saves the dying soldier some hours' of exhaustive surgery later, and has not one minute to rest before she rushes to aid a French civilian missing his arm.

_This war,_ she thinks, tears burning when she realizes the civilian's wound is septic, _what is it for? Really? Why did it start? When will it end? When will we look around ourselves and realize enough is enough?_

Fire is catching, though. Easy to start, difficult to extinguish, and sometimes, when it catches the way this war has, impossible to control.

Incinerating. Burning, scorching, killing everything in its path. Dreams of love and adventure in Paris, gone up in smoke. Innocent civilians, mowed down like cattle. Boys, men, sent to fight a fire they didn't start, but that's consuming them all.

France is illuminated by the lights of hellfire and damnation tonight.

And Sakura wonders if there's any love left in this country at all, except for what she feels (hides) for Sasuke.

* * *

"Dear Captain Uchiha,

I received your letter. It was inadequate.

You were raised and educated in the United States of America, and as such, I expect a far more eloquent and loquacious response to this letter next time. And I don't like to be kept waiting.

I'm being relocated to a hospital in a town I can't pronounce nearer the sea. (The return address is the base listed on the envelope.) I'm sad to leave Paris, but glad at the same time. Because it wasn't what I expected it to be. (Nothing ever is.)

I lost two patients today. I know what you would say to me. That it wasn't my fault, to keep my chin up. I can hear your voice now, deep and bossy, like I'm one of your soldiers, but I'm not. You've never been able to control anything about me except my emotions. But it won't help here, because I look around this hospital and see nothing but death and destruction. There's nothing I can do to stop it. I saved six men today, but pulled the sheets over two, and it's all I can think about.

Not all. I also think about Company 742. I hope you're all taking care of yourselves.

Especially you, Sasuke. You owe me a pack of cigarettes. I expect to be repaid.

I miss you, Captain. I miss the way you snap at me, and the way you try to boss me around. I miss the way you smile at me from across the table. And every table in every café in Paris has a candle, and when it burns, do you know that your eyes are softer in the firelight?

War is fire. It consumes everything in its path, and it doesn't care if you're innocent or guilty. It doesn't care if you're armed or a woman or a child. There's no end to this cycle, it feels like. But when I think about fire, I also think about the way it shines in your eyes, about the way it ignites the tip of your cigarette. I think of you when I think of fire, Captain, and it reminds me that there's more to this war than just waiting to bury what's destroyed.

I hope you're safe, wherever you are. I hope you're keeping cool in this heat (heatstroke can be as deadly as a bullet) and I hope your men are safe, too. I hope you're washing your socks and eating three square meals a day. I hope you aim true and find your way back home.

Do you ever think about what it'd be like? Heading back? I'm sure you must. I certainly do.

I think about what it'll be like to set foot on pavement again back in the States. I hope there's not a big to-do. I hope nobody greets me, and since all of my friends are over here with me and my family's dead, I don't think anybody will. I was never in this for the glory because I don't know how much glory there is in what we do.

I just hope I'll be able to finally see New York someday.

Would you let me come with you, Captain? Would you take me to New York City and show me the streets and the stores and the buildings I've never seen before? Would you look at me from across the table at a restaurant in the city with the same soft look in your eyes as you do here?

Would you bring me home with you, Captain? If we survive this, would you bring me home?

I want a proper response, Captain. And quickly. (You should never keep a lady waiting. Especially not when she has the ability to sever your spinal column with a few twists of a wrench.)

That's an order.

-Sakura"

* * *

Sakura sends the letter to the mailroom, before cowardice claims her and she censors her audacious request, and heads to bed.

Bed is a cot in a room with four other women. (They're all nurses.) No one smiles in her direction. Everyone feels the sadness of what they've experienced in the operating theaters, and with the stench of death still permeating the humid air around them, no one speaks. Sakura lays down on the uncomfortable cot and is asleep within seconds, so she can't know about Dr. Yakushi standing outside the room they're all staying in.

She doesn't see the way he stares at her, eyes drinking her in hungrily, like a starving man, or perhaps a starving lion.

And Sakura, world-wise as she thinks she is, ought to know that the enemies a woman will face in her life are not limited to those foes on the other side of the battlefield.

She can't know how he's followed her here to this miserable outpost, why he's sent her here in the first place.

Isolation.

* * *

**note..** Hi, everyone :) Hope you're having a fabulous weekend!

Oh, and as for why I decided to make them Americans? Because I felt like it. Hop off.

Let me know what you think, as always! Enjoy your Saturdays, dollbabies.

Love Daisy.


	7. Less Than, or Equal To?

Germany

Late Summer

1942

"Dear Naruto,

It's very nice to hear from you as well! I hope my letter cheered you up, and I'm very glad you wrote back.

Stateside, there's not much going on. The girls I go to school with have all written to soldiers, but you're the first one to write back. It's frightfully dull here, not having much idea what to do next. But I'm so sorry if I sound unappreciative, since you're fighting over there so we can all be safe and free. And I DO appreciate it, Naruto. I just wish I could do more to help.

They tell us that things are improving over there, and that we're very close to actually winning the war. But it's hard to trust in everything you hear, because if we really _were_ close, wouldn't you all be coming home?

What do you boys do with your free time? I'm sorry if I come across as very ignorant, but they never taught us that in school…what soldiers do when there aren't any battles. Do you get to see a movie, or is it all just watching the USO dancers like they say here on the radio?

Your friend and his girl sound like very nice people. She's a doctor? That's so impressive. It's hard for women to make it in that industry; I had originally wanted to be a nurse, but my father told me how silly it was to pursue a career in medicine when it was so dominated by men. Not many respectable men want to marry a woman with the means to support herself.

It makes me wonder then why I was permitted to go to college in the first place. My father says it's to impress a potential husband, since Wellesley's such a good school. But why should that matter, if the only role I'm expected to play is that of a good wife and mother someday?

I'm sorry to ramble on about all these silly problems. They must look so small and petty to you, since you're the one risking your life to give me the right to squabble and squawk. But even if we never met, and even if we've only exchanged a few words here and there, I feel as though I can really, truly trust you. You seem like such a sweet, genuine person and I'm very grateful I got to write to you, and that you wrote me back.

But back to your letter. You said you were training to be a policeman? How noble! What an exciting career that will be for you to go into when you finally come home!

Looking forward to hearing from you again, if you have the time, and if there's anything I can do to help you out in any way, please don't hesitate to ask! Take care of yourself, Naruto!"

Sincerely, Hinata"

* * *

It's a few weeks after Shino's death that Naruto receives the letter from Hinata.

He's on his way to the mess hall when the mail courier starts calling out names, moving through the crowd of hungry American soldiers headed to dinner. He's always real optimistic when it's mail call, but usually he's disappointed in the end. Everything's so sloppy and slow with the mail that he can't even be sure Miss Hinata got his letter in the first place, let alone responded to it.

And Naruto's not a very patient guy.

But when the mail courier calls out, "Uzumaki, Naruto," he damn near wets himself in excitement.

"THAT'S ME!" he shouts, all but ripping the envelope out of the poor sap's hand. The loopy writing on the front of it, visible beneath the US Army's seal, is girly and pretty and _Miss Hinata wrote back!_

He skips dinner and heads back to his barracks, a collection of camo-colored tents nestled safely in the woods; almost everyone's at the mess hall, except for Sasuke, who he sees sitting with his back against a tree, quietly reading a letter of his own. For the first time in a long time, with a letter from a girl back home (even if he doesn't know her all that well), he feels equal to Sasuke. Like he caught up to him somehow.

Naruto reads the letter a thousand times in his tent, until Miss Hinata's pretty words in their pretty penmanship are emblazoned in his brain. He thinks he loves her, or maybe just really, really likes her, but he can sort of picture what she must look like. Pretty, definitely. As pretty as Dollface but in a different way. She seems like she'd be a classy, sophisticated kind of girl.

He wants to write back, but he has to find something good to say, something that will keep Miss Hinata interested and these pretty letters coming in. But the only girl he's ever really known pretty well has been Dollface, and from the sound of it, Dollface and Miss Hinata have almost nothing in common.

He's got to talk to someone about this. Someone who's in love and who's confused about it.

* * *

Sasuke barely looks up from the letter in his lap when Naruto runs outside, calling his name. "Hn."

"Look, I've been writing to this real sweet dame from back home," Naruto explains, taking a seat beside his best friend, and hoping for a peek of the letter he knows is from Dollface; Sasuke immediately slips the paper into his pocket and rolls his eyes. "So…how'd Dollface get to be a doctor, anyway?"

Sasuke sighs. He's annoyed, but that doesn't faze Naruto at all.

"She went to college, and she went to medical school," he replies curtly.

"No kidding," Naruto snaps. "I mean, she's a dame, ain't she? It must've been hard for her, right?"

"Aa. Why the hell are you asking me this."

"Because Miss Hinata wanted to be a nurse but her dad said no she can't be one because she's a girl. Only that ain't right, because Dollface is a girl and she's a doctor!"

Sasuke whips out a pack of cigarettes, pulls one, lights it. He leans back against the tree and mutters, "Sakura worked hard for what she's got. If your girl really wanted to be a nurse, the only thing stopping her is herself."

Naruto is so delighted with the way Sasuke calls Miss Hinata his girl that he almost forgets to keep asking his questions. He also thinks it's funny that Sasuke never actually calls Dollface by her proper name to her face; it's always nicknames, pet names.

"But it also seems like Miss Hinata's trying to get married off pretty quick. Or her dad wants her married anyways. Do you think she'd marry a soldier?"

Sasuke looks real annoyed now as he stubs out his cigarette and lights a new one.

"You ain't ever even met her," he says coldly. "You don't know shit about her but you want to get married?"

Naruto's angry now. Not two seconds ago, Sasuke was calling Miss Hinata his girl, now he's saying things like _that?_ But Naruto knows his best friend, knows Sasuke's mood changes and temper. Knows something's wrong to make him shift gears like that.

"What's wrong?" he demands.

"Nothing. We're at war. Think about keeping yourself alive; worry about your girl later."

He stands up moodily and starts for the mess hall, before Naruto calls out, "What's _really_ wrong, you bastard?"

Sasuke pauses, his back to his friend, and replies quietly, "Something's up with Sakura."

"Dollface?" Naruto's instantly worried. "What do you mean? What's going on?"

With anyone else, Sasuke would have told them not so politely to fuck off and mind their own business, but Naruto's earned his place as Sasuke's best friend, and Sasuke knows better than to pull that shit.

"She's relocated," he mumbles. "South of France. Near the fighting."

"Oh, man."

"She says she's fine, but something's wrong. I can tell."

"Look if Dollface says she's fine, she's fine. She ain't the lying kind."

"Hn. She'd lie if she knew I'd worry."

Here, Naruto thinks Sasuke might have a point. He's never seen his friend like this before, so worried, so intimidated, and by the contents of a letter at that. His face is pale, his attitude's terrible, he's chain-smoking and pissed and agitated.

He comes to one uncomfortable conclusion: Sasuke's in love, and Naruto's only pretending.

Sasuke's head over heels in love. He cares about Dollface as a person, not an idea, the way Naruto cares for Miss Hinata. He's known Dollface since the war started, spent time with her, got to know her, let her get to know him. He's argued with her, fought with her, held her, kissed her, all the things that real folks in real love really do.

Naruto's never done any of that with Miss Hinata.

Sure, they're sending letters, and telling each other about themselves, but is it really the same thing? Does talking to a girl he's never met even _count?_

Is this thing with Miss Hinata on the same level as what Sasuke has with Dollface? Or is it just Naruto trying to play catch-up to the best friend he's always been jealous of (in his heart of hearts?)

No. No way. Just because he's not in love with Miss Hinata now doesn't mean he won't be in a few days, weeks, months, years. He likes her letters and it sounds like she likes his, so isn't that the most important thing? They can start off as friends, just like Sasuke did with Dollface. And then, with time, and luck, maybe it can turn into something more.

Bolstered by this optimistic new attitude, and wanting it to rub off on Sasuke, who looks like he's about to run back to France to get Dollface, he reveals, "Miss Hinata, in her letter? She says we're coming home someday. Not if. When."

Sasuke sighs and chuckles. "Good," he replies, and leaves.

Naruto thinks it sounds an awful lot like Sasuke approves of Miss Hinata. He'll be sure to tell her so, in his letter.

* * *

They ship out again before Naruto gets a chance to write back.

They're moving closer to the French border; it feels like retreat, like they're going backwards, but Naruto knows it must be a relief for Sasuke. The closer they are to France, the closer he is to Dollface.

The Major sounds pretty optimistic though. Says things are taking a turn for the better. Says the States aren't happy with ol' Hitler and are lettin him know.

Since Shino was killed, it's hard to find any reason in the world to feel good about the war, but Naruto trusts the Major. Kakashi's never steered them wrong before, and what with this new connection with Miss Hinata, he's more excited than ever to wrap things up here in Europe and get the hell back home to New York.

France is nice and all, and Germany's probably nice without all the Nazis and concentration camps and shit, but Naruto misses the subway and the miles of taxis and the sound of cheering and applause in the Bronx when the Yankees take the field.

The truck takes their outfit to a secure location on the German border. It's raining and humid and miserable, but Naruto can't find it in him to complain. Miss Hinata wouldn't want to hear about how wet and hot and sweaty he is, would she?

But before he writes back to her, he needs to get some female advice first. (Sasuke's probably doesn't count.) So he sits in the cramped truck, squinting to see the paper in the dim light, and writes a letter to the only girl in the world he feels like he can trust with this shaky little crush he has on Miss Hinata.

* * *

"Dear Dollface,

Hey there, cutiepie! It's Naruto Uzumaki! You remember, the future President of the United States? How have you been, Dollface? We miss you real bad out here. Especially the old bastard, but I don't gotta tell _you_ that!

Listen, I need your help. See, I got this girl back home now. She ain't a girlfriend yet but maybe she will be someday when we all get to go home. Right? So her name's Miss Hinata. She goes to college and she writes back real fast when I write to her and her dad says she can't be a nurse and she's got to get married. So what should I tell her? Because I want Miss Hinata to do whatever she wants to be happy, and you're a girl and a doctor so it's got to be possible, right? How do I tell Miss Hinata to do what will make her happy?

Also, Sasuke says there's something wrong with you and you won't tell him what it is. Dollface we gotta look out for each other! So you better let him know what's the problem, young lady. Or he's gonna defect and come find you. We're heading back close to the border again so he could probably get away with it, you know.

Let me know ASAP! And we better see you soon, or I'm gonna write the President a letter personally to complain about it!

-Naruto"

* * *

**note..** Hello :)


	8. What's Important

Some German Town Near France

Late Summer 1942

SASUKE

Company 742 arrives at this tiny German town surrounded by forest on all sides together and in relatively high spirits. No deaths lately, not since Shino, so everyone's feeling optimistic. News from the brass suggests the war's going better than the Yanks might've expected.

Sasuke, though, stays skeptical. Because if things are going so well, why are they pulling away from Germany's strongholds? They'd been close to Berlin, for example, but the Major had ordered them back. And it feels like retreat.

The town they're in, and he couldn't remember the name of it for the life of him because it's full of letters he can't pronounce because it's _German,_ has been abandoned. Most likely it was highly-populated with Jewish shopkeepers and their families however many years ago; Sasuke recalls hearing about "Kristallnacht" over the radio back in New York awhile back. Night of Broken Glass. Nazis attacked Jewish-run stores and homes and made such a mess, they made up a name for it.

Seems like this town was one of those casualties. What few buildings still stand are empty, raided, windows knocked in, doors thrown off their hinges. The whole place has this eerie feeling to it, like it's been abandoned by the living, but still occupied by the dead.

Sasuke's not much for ghost stories but he sees why other people believe in them.

But because the village is abandoned, that means they can use the buildings that are still erect for their company. It makes a hell of a lot of difference, coming up with military objectives and planning their next battle moves when you're doing it in a room that isn't made of canvas, and won't fall down in the rain.

Plus, the Major's heading in, according to his latest telegram. Sasuke's instructions are to pull his troop into the village-he-can't-pronounce and wait for the Major's arrival. It could take days, or it could take weeks; the Major's pretty flaky when it comes to setting up a time and sticking to it. Sasuke thinks to himself that punctuality should be a trait observed by the army commanders, but who is he to question a decorated officer like the Major?

Just some punk from New York who really, really wants to go back home.

Sasuke signals his men to the main street, with the broad, vague instructions to find somewhere safe to sleep. He tells them to take any food they can find (he doubts there's gonna be much that hasn't spoiled yet, since it looks like this place hasn't been inhabited in years), but to leave everything else. Raiding innocent people's homes is Nazi shit, not Americans.

To Shikamaru, the smartest one out of all of 'em, he orders a phone line set up that can connect him with the brass. There's still some powerlines in this old town, and with Shikamaru's electrical background, he can cook up something that can get him in contact with the Americans back home. Shikamaru nods lazily and heads off with the promise to find him when he fixes the lines.

His troop obeys him and they scatter among the cobblestone roads to claim somewhere to stay. Sasuke himself runs a quick patrol around the village proper, keeping a sharp eye out for Jerry scouts, but he is unsurprised to find nobody out in that mess of a forest looking for them.

The Jerries are keeping their focus on Berlin, and on Austria, and whatever the hell's happening in France. Not to mention winter's coming and they're sending their men out to Russia to try and deal with the Russian opposition.

Sasuke's not jealous of the Russians; it's cold as hell where they're from. He knows, with a grim sort of amusement, that the Germans won't last long on Russian turf. It's uninhabitable if you're not used to freezing your back ass off every day. That's one victory they can count on, at least.

Still, though, with all Hitler's got going on, no one's gonna remember this forgotten little town near France.

Content that no one's gonna blast any of his men away for the night, Sasuke heads over to what used to be a bakery, if the worn wooden sign hanging by one hinge over the door is to be believed. The letters are all worn down and it looks like it's in German, but there's a picture of a loaf of bread on it almost completely smudged away by rain and weather.

He steps inside and removes his helmet, because even if nobody's here to make him, it's polite to take your hat off when entering someone's house. And this place used to be a bakery on the first floor, but when he walks up creaking, rickety wooden steps, he sees that a family must've been living here on top.

Sasuke's momentarily struck by how similar a set-up this is to the shops back home, in New York City. It's common on almost every block, that a man's family might sleep above his business. The coffeehouse he patronized every day was run by a fat old guy with an easy smile and six kids living in a flat above the shop. Sasuke doesn't want to admit it, but he's affected by how incredibly alike Americans and Europeans are.

He runs his fingers across the chipped paint on the walls; there's scratches here and there, like things were thrown against it, and dark marks cover the floor and Sasuke hopes it's just wood rot instead of blood. What remains of the furniture is ruined, saturated with water from rain seeping in through the leaky roof and worn through with mothballs, overturned and useless. A creaky shutter bangs back and forth in the wind, and when Sasuke glances outside, he sees it's about to rain.

He sighs. Without meaning to, he thinks about Slim again, the way she likes the rain. Silly girl would get this happy look in her eyes when the skies got dark, and when the first raindrops would fall, she would open her mouth to taste it on her tongue.

Slim's quickly becoming his driving force to finish up whatever missions they're gonna be assigned in this European wasteland and head back home.

_Where are you, Slim baby?_ Sasuke wonders, as he takes a seat on the windowsill in the room above the bakery. The air smells fresh and clean, and he pictures the way she'd giggle when a fat drop of rain would catch her on the forehead. _Something's wrong, I know it. What aren't you telling me?_

He takes her letter out of his jacket pocket, where he's kept it since he received it a few weeks ago. He hasn't seen her in a couple of months and it makes him nervous. And to hear her talking like this? It doesn't sound like her at all.

_Would you take me with you, Captain?_

Would he?

_Course I would,_ he thinks, watching the first few raindrops splatter against the barren cobblestone street. _If we both get out of this in one piece, of course I'd take you home with me, Slim. I couldn't let you go back to Philadelphia without me._

They've never had the discussion, though. Not properly, anyway. Never wanting to actually share a goodbye with one another, they never had a reason to make plans for the future. Living each day in the moment had been their whole M.O. this whole time, but Slim's right to wonder what'll happen next.

_I'd marry the annoying girl, if she'd have me,_ As he thinks it, he knows it's true. This war's got him evaluating what's most important to a man, what's most important to him, and all roads lead back to a young doctor with a face that should be in the motion pictures.

He should tell her that. That way, if anything happens to him, or to her, she'd at least know what he was thinking. How much he thought of her, how often, how hard.

He can't put his finger on it, but he knows something's wrong with Slim. She didn't say much that would have him worried in her letter.

It's what she DIDN'T say, that's got him all riled up.

She's been relocated, but the reasons she gives him aren't reasons at all. And one thing Slim's good at, is talking. She'd've told him why she was moved if she knew.

She sounds uneasy. And that should be the opposite, seeing how she's leaving Paris, and Paris is bound to be more trouble for her than any of the smaller French towns and provinces. Even if where she's moving is closer to Germany, closer to the fighting, anything's got to be better than spending more time in gray, dead Paris, the ghostly reality of her fairy tale fantasy.

Something's got her scared, he realizes. And it's something she won't tell him about.

She'd lie to him, if she knew he'd worry.

His grip on the letter tightens. The paper wrinkles beneath his hands but he can't bring himself to care. Slim's biggest problem has always been her determination to take care of everyone else's needs ahead of her own. She lets herself go neglected in favor of protecting and looking out for everybody in the world first, and it rattles Sasuke to no end.

Someone's got to take care of the girl who takes care of everyone else. And it looks like it's gotta be him.

_If I knew where you were,_ he thinks, torn between fondness and aggravation, _I'd find you whether or not the Major would let me, and I'd shake it out of you, whatever you're hiding. Annoying girl, silly girl, stupid girl…you matter more than any of these poor saps you try so hard for._

From the letter, though, it looks like she kept up her good humor. Teasing him about his lack of eloquence, demanding a wordier, more satisfying response because that's just her nature. She gives the best of herself and expects the same in return, even from surly, sulky-faced boys like Sasuke Uchiha.

And damn if she let him, he'd give her his best. His hand, his home, his name, all of it could be hers, if she wanted it.

He writes her a response like she asked him. He doesn't write as much as she did, because that's not his style, but he packs a lot into the scarce few words that erupt from his ancient ballpoint pen that's almost out of ink. He writes it on a slip of paper he finds in the overturned chest of drawers in the bakery attic, and figures whoever owned this place once-upon-a-time won't miss a piece of dampened paper if he sends it back to America with his heart written all over it in cheap French ink.

* * *

"Slim, baby,

Made it to the German-French border. Shino's dead. KIA awhile back, they sent his body home. Sorry I couldn't keep him alive. Everyone else is fine. Waiting on orders from the old bastard what to do.

Whatever's going on, Slim, I want to hear it, you understand me? I know something's wrong. And I worry about you whether or not you tell me why. You annoy the hell out of me.

Hell yeah I'd take you home with me.

-Sasuke."

* * *

He makes a note to send it with the mail courier when he gets a chance, and stuffs it into his pocket. The rain's cooling everything off and he's momentarily glad that some jackass of a Jerry knocked this window in, because the breeze filtering in through the bakery attic feels amazing. He heads over to one of the bedrooms and lays down on the ancient mattress on the floor.

Thinking about his shitty, half-assed marriage proposal and the girl he knows is too stubborn not to accept it, Sasuke sleeps.

He's woken what feels like seconds later by Shikamaru, who looks smug and satisfied and Sasuke knows he must've restored communication in the empty town.

"Got a line through to the Major," he tells him with a long hard drag on his cigarette, standing in the doorway of the room Sasuke'd slept in. "He says he's on his way. Should be here by nightfall tomorrow. Wants a word with you, Sleepin' Beauty."

Sasuke rolls his eyes but knows he's not the type to demand nothing but respect from his troop, which is made up primarily of his friends, and stands up off the mattress, stretching his sore muscles. It looks like twilight now that the rain's cleared up, and the moon's shining overhead. He must've slept a couple of hours, then.

"Where'd you set it up?" he asks his subordinate, as they exit the bakery and head down the street. "Nowhere it can be traced back to the Jerries, right?"

Shikamaru rolls his eyes.

"'Course not, Cap'n."

Sasuke's led to what looks like an old grammar school, and he ignores the clench of his stomach muscles that tells him the Jerries didn't spare children. Like every other place in the village, it's been raided for its supplies and left to rot, and Sasuke navigates his way around overturned desks and pages ripped from burned books to the phone line Shikamaru's set up in the corner.

He lifts the receiver off the wall and holds it to his ear, while spinning the dial with his free hand. To his surprise, the Major answers quick; usually, he's got to wait.

"Captain Uchiha, reporting," Sasuke mutters into the phone.

"Ah, good to hear you made it there safely, Captain," the Major replies back, his voice slightly garbled; the connection's strong, but fuzzy. "Any trouble?"

"None, sir. Orders?"

"At ease, Captain, nothing's changed. I'll arrive with my company tomorrow night. We'll discus tactics then. I had Lieutenant Nara find you so I could let you know personally we drove them back in Strasbourg."

This is good news. Legitimate good news, for once, instead of what's suggested and implied but never actually stated. Strasbourg, a city in the Alsace region of France and close to Germany, is a hot spot right now, like Berlin, and Paris. Forcing a German retreat, even if it's temporary, is huge.

Maybe this is why they were redirected to the German border. To provide backup, if necessary.

Doesn't seem like it was necessary, if Major Hatake's troops were successful on their own.

So what does this mean for Company 742? Against his will, Sasuke finds himself increasingly hopeful for whatever happens next.

"Aa," he replies. "I'll meet you here tomorrow night, sir."

"Good man. Take care of those boys, Captain. You're doing a fine job."

The line goes dead.

* * *

When you first see Major Kakashi Hatake, you see his eyepatch and the mask he wears over the lower of his face. You see his decorated uniform and his easy eye-crinkling smiles. Sometimes, if you face him on the battlefield, you see his intensity, his resolve, and the determination that's made him so fearsome to his enemies, so awesome to his comrades.

Sasuke thinks he's an annoying, perverted old bastard with no concept of punctuality.

He also trusts his judgment implicitly, whether or not he'll actually say so.

He arrives with his own company, comprised of significantly older army soldiers who've been serving with him for years now. They head through the cobblestone street of the town Company 742's taken as their temporary base and it's impossible not to notice the air of victory they carry with them.

Whatever happened in Strasbourg was big.

Sasuke meets his superior officer in the middle of the town square with a salute, which Major Hatake returns along with a smile (at least Sasuke thinks it's a smile; he's never actually seen the Major's face.)

"Awaiting further instruction, sir," Sasuke says.

"Very good, Captain. Come with me; what I have to say is for your ears only." Major Hatake addresses Sasuke's company, gathered at attention behind him. "At ease, gentlemen. I need a word with the captain before we discuss what happened at Strasbourg."

"Sir yes sir," chorus Sasuke's company, and they disperse quickly to give their commanders some space.

Kakashi leads Sasuke back to the old grammar school, where they'd set up the phone line. It's only after he steps inside and removes his helmet, revealing messy spikes of silvery gray hair, that Sasuke loses his patience.

"What's going on, sir?" he asks, impatient for news. He wants to know what the hell's happening in France, because that's where Slim's stationed at the moment. Somewhere in France. She said South, though, so maybe that's away from Strasbourg? He doesn't know, doesn't care, just wants to know where she is.

Major Hatake isn't the type, just like Sasuke, to demand complete respect at all times. He sighs and cracks his neck before replying, "Relax, Captain. It's good news. We didn't defeat the Jerries back in Strasbourg, but we did delay them for awhile. Captured a shipment of arms they were trying to send through Strasbourg to Paris. QUITE the arsenal. The POWs were taken back to our base in Spain for questioning; several of them, though, gave up German position on sight."

Sasuke perks up; not only did the Americans successfully commandeer a shipment of German weapons, they'd also wrangled some information about other German troops. No wonder Company 414 was so full of themselves. This really WAS big.

"What I'm gonna order you and your men to do," Major Hatake says, "is cross out of Germany back to France. There's a small village nearer the South, with one of our military hospitals; after everyone's examined by our talented doctors," and here, the old major gets this knowing glint in his eye, and Sasuke can't help his heart from racing, "I want y'all to take one week's furlough. A week off. You boys deserve it."

Sasuke's suspicious.

"This hospital," he begins, but Kakashi chuckles and nods.

"Yes, Captain. I'm told this hospital is under the very capable medical direction of a one Dr. Sakura Haruno, at the moment."

How did the old bastard KNOW? It creeps him out, but Sasuke's too grateful to tell the major to mind his own damn business.

He's going to see Slim.

"Trucks are arriving in the morning to take you all back to France," Major Hatake says. "Next Saturday, I want you and your troop to report to the French city of Toulouse. I'll meet you there and we'll go over attacking these German positions the Jerries gave up to us in Strasbourg. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Sasuke says, his stomach clenching in anticipation.

Kakashi dismisses him and Sasuke heads directly to the abandoned library, where a few of the soldiers have set up a temporary kitchen and are cooking up some rations for Companies 742 and 414. Sasuke takes a bit of bread and hastily adds a postscript to his letter to Slim, before he hands it off to the courier.

"PS: See you in France."

* * *

**note..** Well, this story's starting to drive me crazy. I used to really enjoy writing it but lately it feels like nothing but drama for everyone who's reading it. I'm tired of getting spiteful, nasty, anonymous reviews telling me I'm a bitch. I'm tired of getting obnoxious PMs telling me to hurry up and update because it's 'rude that I keep people waiting.' I don't know what it is about this story that makes everyone so angry but it's making me lose inspiration at an extremely fast pace.

To clarify: there is NOTHING WRONG with being a nurse. It's one of the most respectable professions in the world. But it's also insulting to a DOCTOR, who went to school for longer and has a broader knowledge of medicine, to be called something besides doctor. That's like calling a professor a teacher, or a lawyer a paralegal. Nothing wrong with any of those professions. And as someone who's in medical school, when I become a doctor, I know it would offend me to be called anything else. To the anonymous reviewer who called me a bitch for that, maybe next time you say so from an actual account. Rather be a bitch than a coward.

Sorry, guys. I just don't know what it is about this story in particular that's so much drama. But I gotta say, I would love for anonymous readers and reviewers to get an account. Anyone can be mean and nasty when it can't be traced back to you. Grow up.

AND THERE ENDS MY ANGER. How can I stay mad when the Phillies are doing so well lately? Don't give up on them, Phaithful. :) Love you guys. Thanks for sticking with me.

xoxo Daisy


	9. For the Future

Southern France

Late Summer, Maybe. 1942.

SAKURA

She's scrubbing blood out of her fingernails when the mail courier arrives.

It's a common thing lately. Closer to the fighting, there are more and more wounded soldiers coming in to see her. Or rather, to have her sew them back together. There are many she can't save, but little time to mourn. But all of it leads to this routine of trying to negotiate blood out from under her blunt nails.

This time, the blood that clings stubbornly to the pale skin of her small but capable hands belongs to a man she _could_ save; he'd been brought into her operating theatre with a terrible shotgun wound to the stomach, a very slow and painful way to die. But because the man was young and strong and healthy, and his comrades were able to bring him to the hospital in time, Sakura had the bullet removed, the area cleansed and bandaged, and morphine in his system to take the edge off within a couple of hours.

She's tired now. Seems like she's always tired, with so much to do and so little time to rest. She knows she's lost at least five pounds since transferring out of Paris a few weeks ago, and whenever she catches a glimpse of her face in the mirror of the bathroom, or the spotted windows in the hospital hallways, her skin looks pale, the bags under her eyes dark and pronounced.

The courier finds her bent over a sink again and salutes her politely.

"Good morning, ma'am," he says.

"Good morning, soldier," she replies, smiling instead of saluting, since her hands are all soapy. "What can I do for you?"

"Letters from Company 742, ma'am."

Sakura's heart flips. She's been so busy lately that she hasn't even had time to think about Sasuke's reply to her rather forward letter from a few weeks back. She quickly dries her hands and reaches for the envelopes in the courier's hand.

"Thank you very much!" she says breathlessly, surprised to see two, until she notes that one of them is from Naruto, bless his heart. She'll read that one first.

"Pleasure, ma'am," returns the courier. "And I was asked by Major Hatake from the frontlines to inform you that Company 742 will be arriving later today for examinations."

Her heart stops.

Sasuke's coming _here?_

"He tells me that Captain Uchiha sends his regards to you," the courier continues, and Sakura's eyes are wide. He's okay. He's all right. She's going to see him tonight.

"Thank you, soldier," Sakura replies breathlessly. "Um…yes. Thank you very much."

"Yes, ma'am." Another salute, and he's gone, and it's just Sakura alone with the written words of her two favorite boys in the world.

Well, that and her nerves.

* * *

Naruto's letter is sweet. Seems he's courting a young lady from the States, one of the girls who writes to soldiers to show support. Sakura can just imagine how happy Naruto is knowing someone back home is waiting for him, and the thought makes her smile.

She won't bother writing back, though. Not if she'll see him tonight, along with the rest of his company.

Her heart aches for Shino, though. A very kind, good man, she recalls, with a young family at home waiting for him. Tears gather in her eyes, tears she no longer thought herself capable of producing, since war has a way of stamping out any and all weaknesses because there's no sense in crying about things you can't change. But Shino was a good man, and you're supposed to cry when good men die, so Sakura cries.

She doesn't read Sasuke's letter, though, not until her shift's over. There are no deaths today, just many relieved, recuperating soldiers who are grateful to Dr. Haruno and her team. She feels no guilt about showering quickly and heading back to her shared bedroom to change her clothes, instead of tacking on another shift for good measure.

It's not just that she wants to look pretty for Sasuke. It's that she can't let him see what a mess she is.

He's the kind of stubborn, infuriating man who would worry about her if he knew what was happening in her life. He's the kind of selfless, selfish man who would put himself in danger if he let her distract him from what he _should_ be doing: killing Nazis, saving lives, going home.

If he knew how intimidated she was by Kabuto…

There's no telling what he'd do. Naruto's letter told her that much.

_Sasuke doesn't know what's wrong,_ she thinks, slipping on a clean, pretty floral dress she hasn't worn in a few weeks, since it's too clean and too pretty for where she is and what she does. _Just that something IS. And maybe that's more distracting to him than actually knowing._

_ But I can't tell him. He's got enough to worry about._

She winds her hair into curls the way she knows he likes. Even places a white carnation behind her ear, the effect nice with her pink ringlets. She applies a little makeup as well, a frivolity in times like these, but Sasuke deserves a little effort, doesn't he?

Not to mention the mascara on her lashes distracts from the purple bruises under her eyes.

It's only after she'd slid on her heels that she allows herself to sit on the edge of her bed and read Sasuke's reply.

Her fingers tremble as she tears open the envelope with more force than necessary. It's ridiculous. As a surgeon, she has exceptional control over her hands, a lethal precision, but something about that smarmy army captain with his too-dark eyes throws any semblance of self-control she has out the window. He makes her feel like a nervous schoolgirl with a crush.

_How bout it, Sasuke? When this is over…if we both…if we both get to go home…are you gonna take me away with you?_

_ Is there a future for us that isn't written in tragedy?_

"Well, well, well, Dr. Haruno. Don't you look lovely."

The voice gives her pause, and she quickly shoves the unread letter back into its envelope. Her eyes narrow as they settle on Dr. Yakushi, standing in the threshold of her room with his arms folded. He's smirking again, and his steely eyes rake across her body from behind his thick lenses.

"I was under the impression that female quarters were to be private," she replies coldly.

"Ah, right you are, Dr. Haruno. But I assure you, I have come here with only the noblest intentions."

There's such a ruthless, absurd sarcasm twisting his words and it makes her lip curl.

"Seems there's word that Captain Uchiha and his men will be arriving shortly," he goes on. "From what I have been told, there are no significant injuries among the group, which means it shall be a relatively brief series of examinations."

"Good," Sakura replies, not bothering to infuse any semblance of politeness into her tone, because she hates Kabuto and doesn't care if he knows it. "They've taken good care of themselves, then."

"Indeed. And I have come here hoping you might be willing to, when you're through with your share of the examinations, accompany me to dinner in the city this evening."

Sakura's stomach churns in revulsion. Instead, she looks away pointedly and replies, her tone pure ice, "No."

Kabuto chuckles. The sound makes her nauseous, and she hears him take a few steps closer, but refuses to look his way.

"It's disrespectful to speak that way to a superior, Dr. Haruno," he chides her, like she's six years old. Inwardly, she fumes at being called his subordinate. "Why are you so opposed to the idea? I am a young, respected, affluent member of British society. Any young lady who might snare my interest should consider herself fortunate to have done so."

"Then you can find any young lady besides me," Sakura shoots back, her voice like razors. Abruptly she's on her feet, ignoring the way his eyes feast on her and regretting that she's dolled herself up. "If you'll excuse me."

She stalks out of the room, Kabuto's amused chuckle ringing in her ears like a disease.

* * *

She avoids the south wing because Kabuto will most certainly be looking for her after her rude rejection. She does not want to consider the consequences of her disrespect, not when she will see Sasuke tonight. She does not want her anxiety to be obvious on her face.

_I have to convince him that nothing's wrong. I can't do that if I'm still jazzed up from that scoundrel!_

Instead, she finds herself alone on one of the hospital balconies. It's almost autumn so the air isn't as punishingly humid, as stiflingly hot, as it's been. A nice breeze pulls through her curls and fans across her forehead, cooling her temper as she takes a seat on the railing.

Resolving not to torture herself anymore, determined to see what Sasuke thinks of her and a future, she allows herself not one more second of delay. She rips the letter from the envelope and beings to read almost feverishly.

He wants to take her home with him. There are the words in black and white. In his almost illegible scrawl, there are his words and she can almost hear him say them to her. Annoyed and amused all at once, his voice dark and velvety. No doubts. Sasuke Uchiha wrote this.

Sasuke Uchiha wants a future with her.

She's numb with shock.

Then, the bells go off from below. The bells signal that patients have arrived, but there are not a distress signal, which is good. Minor injuries, if any. Usually just a troop pulling in for a routine checkup.

Sakura's heart's pounding and she stands up immediately, leaning over the side for a glimpse of the incoming troop. The truck pulls up and orders are called out; abruptly, men begin pouring out of the back, all of them wearing army gear smudged with dirt and grass and filth, some of them carrying their rifles in their hands, others having strapped them to their backs. They're chatting animatedly with one another, greeting nurses and doctors who rush out to meet them, they look like they're in good spirits.

Her sharp green eyes rake across each one of them; even from her elevation three stories up, she misses nothing. She sees Kiba and knows he needs ice to bring down the swelling in his left knee, judging by the slight bulge to his pants and his almost negligible limp. She sees Shikamaru coughing and knows he needs to cut back on the cigarettes if he wants to survive past 24. She sees Naruto, and he looks completely healthy, but a little underfed; he needs a good meal rich in nutrients. They all do.

Satisfaction resonates within her as she checks out her boys from a distance, diagnoses them and makes plans for their recuperation. But there's also anxiety twisting inside of her, too, because where the hell is that foolish army captain she might marry someday? He's supposed to be here, and…

"What, Slim baby? No lecture this time?"

A smile breaks across her face, the first real smile she's had in what feels like six lifetimes. She spins around to face him and Jesus God there he is. Six feet of lean muscle, a scintillating smirk tilting his thin lips, his black eyes locked on her and burning. Aside from a few scratches on his neck and face, he looks perfectly healthy. Arrogant and cocky and self-assured, and her muscles ache to run into his arms.

But this is a hospital, and there are boundaries. A doctor can't go shacking up with an army captain around here. Frowned upon. She thinks of Kabuto; forbidden.

She hopes he knows, though. That more than anything, in this moment, she wants to throw her arms around his neck, bury her nose against his shoulder and cry and cry and cry because he's safe, he's here, he's here with her to smirk at her and tease her and make her breathless. She hopes he knows that.

"Captain Uchiha," she says instead, her tone light, but her eyes full of love and relief. "I see you took your time in getting here; how typical."

His smirk widens as he salutes her lazily.

"I apologize for my tardiness, Dr. Haruno," he replies, his tone mocking. "But I got me a girl who drives me crazy, see, so it ain't really my fault."

Her stomach flips in anticipation as she smirks in return, before pointing him back inside.

"I'll need to examine you properly, Captain," she tells him coolly, her eyes drifting from his absurdly handsome face to his dirty uniform, a familiar heat exploding through her stomach as she does so, as she remembers what that rock hard body feels like on top of her, below her, inside her until he's all she knows. "Take off your jacket, if you don't mind."

"Yes, ma'am," he murmurs darkly in her ear as she passes him by.

It's too open on the balcony. Anyone might see what they're up to, and Sakura doesn't want Sasuke to get censured for his behavior. At least indoors, there's a bit of privacy; no one really comes down the east wing much anyway. Even so, she checks either way down the corridors to make sure they're deserted, before she locks the door behind them and does what she's wanted to do since the truck pulled up.

She flings herself like a bullet into Sasuke's waiting arms.

He's warm underneath his discarded uniform jacket, and the white T-shirt, standard issue, is clean and smells smoky and spicy, just like his skin. She barely contains a sob of relief as his arms wind tightly around her and he kisses her like he's starving.

"Shit did I miss you, Slim," he growls against her lips, igniting everything inside her like a volcanic eruption. She presses herself closer to him, allowing absolutely no space or air or anything, as she tries to make this moment last forever.

This is why people fight wars and shit, see. This is what really motivates people, what really drives them hardest, what compels them to be their best. Not power, like what the Nazis are after. Not vengeance. Not even justice.

Just love. Love that twists and contorts sometimes into something ugly and unrecognizable, but most times is just a connection between people. And Sakura's never told Sasuke, and he's never said anything about it to her, but this bond between them…how can it be anything BUT love? And the kind that lasts._ The kind that matters._

"You too, Captain," she breathes, eyes shining as she looks up at him with all the love inside her. Her hands trace his face, smooth his messy black hair back, memorize contours she might have forgotten in the weeks it's been since she's seen him. She's careful to note every detail of his face, from his strong jaw to his patrician nose to his thin, impossibly sexy lips, so when he leaves her again, she isn't reduced to consulting inaccurate memories of the man she's given herself to, whether or not he realizes to what extent. "You, too, God I'm so happy you're all right!"

It escalates quickly. It always does, when you're running on borrowed time. Sasuke almost throws her onto the exam table, the one _he_ should be laying on while she checks him for injuries, and his body slides on top of hers in the same instant. Kisses turn hotter, hands wander, clothes are scattered; Sasuke almost tears her pretty dress in his impatience and Sakura loves every minute of it. Loves his mouth on her neck, his hot breath in her ear as he murmurs things she can't believe he's saying, and to her of all people. Loves his hands on her thighs, rough and calloused as they are, loves the scars on his chest and the heat in his eyes. Loves everything about him.

"You think it's fair?" he growls in her ear, teasing her as he takes her and she has to fight to keep from screaming, lest somebody hear them. "You think it's fair to show up looking prettier than I ever saw you, when you know I can't touch you like this?"

"Sasuke," she grinds out, as he moves within her like a hailstorm. "You're touching me right now, aren't you?"

He smirks, chuckles, goes harder and faster the way he knows she likes. "I do a lot of crazy shit where you're concerned, Slim baby."

* * *

When it's over, he collapses, spent, on top of her, his heat and weight smothering her and she's crazy about him, about this cyclone of energy that bubbles between them, about this feeling of completion she's only ever felt lying in his arms like this. For a few moments, there's just his ragged breathing and her contented sighs as they fight to calm their racing hearts. Then there's silence, before he speaks.

"When we get back to the States," he says, panting slightly, as he rolls off of her and refastens his belt, "you're gonna sell your apartment, you understand? We'll get a place in New York."

The way he says it is so arrogant, so offhand, but does he know what it means to her? To hear the words from his mouth? To know that what she read in his letter was no lie?

She sits up ramrod straight, certain her hair is a mess, her makeup is smeared, her dress is askew. Certain there are dark marks on her neck and thighs from his lips and fingers. Certain she looks like a woman who has been thoroughly ravished, rather than the upstanding professional she is required to be over here, but she doesn't care about that.

She just wants him to keep talking like this.

"Really?" she asks him, almost ashamed of how pathetically hopeful she sounds.

"'Course," he responds gruffly. "Like hell am I movin' to Philadelphia."

"Sasuke…don't joke around about this. I'm serious. Are you serious? Are you _sure?_"

"You ask too many questions, Slim. Annoying girl."

Abruptly, her temper and self-assurance return to her and she hops off the table, barefoot but intimidating where she stands in front of him, hands on her hips, eyes locked on his so he can't brush her off.

"I'm serious!" she snaps. "I'm not about to uproot my life in Philadelphia to set up shop in New York City with some fickle little _boy_ who'll change his mind the next day! I want an answer, thanks very much!"

Sasuke rolls his eyes, chuckles, grabs her waist and pulls her in again.

"_You're_ the answer, Slim baby," he tells her in a voice that drives her wild. "My answer, anyway. The only one that makes a damn bit of sense on this fucking continent. Ain't no way I'm letting you go back without me. Ain't no way I'm going back without you.

"Hate to break it to you, Slim, but you're stuck with me. Long haul."

And with that arrogant speech, Sasuke fills up every hole in her heart. Every patient she's lost, every man she's been unable to save, every disparaging comment about her gender, every unsettling glance sent her way by Dr. Yakushi, every damn fucking day spent in this wasteland waiting to live or die or do something in between, all of it's erased and banished, however temporarily, and filled with Sasuke instead.

"And what about a ring?" she asks, trying for aloof, but with the happy tears spilling from her eyes, she's sure it doesn't have the effect she's going for. "I thought these debates were always settled with a ring."

"It ain't a debate, woman," Sasuke snaps, amusement all over his face. "You'll get a ring when we're back home and I can afford to get you one you deserve, understand me?

She rolls her eyes.

"Prideful," she says scornfully. "Who says I want an expensive ring? I want _you._"

"Slim baby, you've had me since training camp." Then, the satisfied smirk on his face melts into something far more serious. With a dull, sickening feeling, Sakura realizes what he's gonna ask her. And even with the prospect of this odd, bizarre, but thoroughly perfect engagement, it's not enough to quell the unease in her heart as he murmurs, "So since you're mine, I want to know what's wrong. Now."

* * *

**note..** Hi, guys! I just really wanted to thank everyone who's been so supportive of me and this story. I'm sorry if my pissed off bitchy nasty rant had anyone thinking I was gonna stop this story or hold it hostage or whatever; I was just frustrated. I'm glad to see people are still reading. I'll finish all of my stories, eventually. Pinky swear and junk.

Next few chapters are gonna be a bit more lighthearted, actually. Kinda looking forward to sharing them. Hope you're looking forward to reading! Thanks so much for tolerating my temper and mood swings and frustration and impatience. Go Phillies! (Playoffs or not this year, still mah favorites. 2013, baby!)

xoxo Daisy :)


	10. Revelry

South of France

Late Summer, Almost Fall 1942

NARUTO

Everyone's having a swell time.

Naruto doesn't really remember if he's said that at all, since being deployed to Europe. Sure, training camp was all laughs, but that's mostly because none of 'em really knew what they were getting themselves into, see. At the time, training was pretty much like summer camp.

Over the past few months, though, it hasn't been much fun at all. Seeing your friends go home in body bags, for one thing, puts a damper on the whole thing.

But no one's got much to complain about tonight! That's because the Major's given everyone a week off.

Company 742 checks into the hospital. Examinations are long and boring, but Naruto's so happy to see Dollface again and talk about Miss Hinata that he barely even flinches when she gives him a shot. Dollface looks happy for him, anyways. She kisses him on the cheek and tells him to tell her everything that night when they all go out. Then she shoos him out of her exam room and barks out, "KIBA! God help you if you didn't rest that leg of yours!"

Sasuke's standing with the other men outside her door, arms folded, a smirk on his face as he listens to Dollface screaming profanities at Kiba, who didn't rest his leg even for a minute. Naruto hears her screech, _"DAMN IT, KIBA! You men and your stupid pride, WHAT did I tell you?! Idiot, it terrifies me that we have morons like YOU defending us out here, you can't even be trusted to put ice on your goddamn knee! Forget Hitler, he's NOTHING next to what I'm gonna do to you!"_

Naruto laughs, stands next to his best friend (they're equals again when they're on break, he thinks) and elbows him jokingly in the side. "She's a real peach, ain't she? Good luck with that one! Never get a moment's rest with _her!_"

To general astonishment, since everyone's listening to their conversation in the cramped hallway, Sasuke's smirk turns decidedly wicked.

"Not plannin' on it," he replies coolly.

"Aw, gross!" Naruto whines, and he covers his eyes even though the image is already burned inside them. "MAN, why'd you have to say a thing like that, huh? I don't wanna think about _you_ with _Dollface!"_

The door flies open and Kiba almost runs out, Dollface right on his heels. Her pink hair is messier than Naruto's used to seeing it and her dress looks rumpled, but her eyes were full of fire as she points right at Sasuke.

"YOU!" she snarls. He raises his eyebrows but doesn't say anything in response. Naruto thinks maybe he's used to Dollface's raging temper. Or maybe he's just an idiot with a death wish.

"Am I to understand that you were placed in charge of this pack of idiots?" she hisses, and Naruto thinks that qualifies as a rhetorical question. He and the other men start snickering, since they know by the look in the doctor's eyes that Sasuke's ass is grass. "_Captain Uchiha?_"

"Yes ma'am," he returns with a somewhat mocking drawl. Sasuke's not one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but any idiot can tell he's amused by the look in his eyes.

"Then could you please explain to me why _none_ of them followed through with the aftercare I prescribed to them back in Paris?" she screams, like a malediction. "I should have them strip you of your rank, you foolish, thoughtless, careless, clueless baboon in an officer's uniform! From now on, I expect my orders to you AND your soldiers followed _to the letter_, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes ma'am," chorus Company 742, intimidated by Dollface's towering temper as much as they're entertained by it. Naruto watches Shikamaru shuffle guiltily back and forth, Kiba cower behind the others, and he grins. Scariest soldiers in Europe, with their tails between their legs thanks to this little missy who's half their size.

"Good," she says coldly, hands on her hips. "And while I'm at it, I…"

"Why, Dr. Haruno!" Naruto whistles lowly; someone's interrupting Dollface while she's giving one of her lectures. He wonders who the moron is, but it turns out to be someone Naruto's never seen before. A guy with silvery-white hair and thick glasses and a labcoat joins their group, snide smirk in place as he addresses Dollface, who goes rigid. "Giving them the business, eh? She's a real slavedriver, isn't she?"

Dollface says nothing. Her jaw is clenched, and Naruto wonders if Sasuke notices this.

"I am Dr. Yakushi," he introduces himself with a bow, and his accent is thickly British. Naruto thinks they pronounce everything weird over there in England. (Or what's left of it, anyways.) "I am head of this hospital. Please don't hesitate to let me know if you need anything. Or if pretty Dr. Haruno gives you too rough a time!"

Naruto watches as Sasuke's eyes narrow into furious slits. He's easily jealous, Sasuke, and with a dame like Dollface, it's easy to see why.

"And you must be…Captain Uchiha!" Dr. Yakushi says to Sasuke, who nods almost imperceptibly to show he is. "I've heard much about you, sir. They say you're a born leader!"

Naruto feels like he should be jealous like he usually is when people compliment Sasuke, but mostly he's suspicious. This Yakushi fella doesn't sit right with him for some reason. He's not sure why, but Naruto trusts his gut instinct.

Something ain't right about him.

"Well, I'll leave Dr. Haruno to take care of you all. You're in good hands, I assure you. Have a pleasant day, gentlemen."

And Dr. Yakushi gives Dollface this really long, really strange look, it's almost threatening, before he continues down the hallway, footsteps echoing until he's out of sight.

Dollface looks uncomfortable. Like she wants to say or do something, but isn't allowed to. Her eyes were worried, almost scared, and Sasuke's glaring at her like she's done something wrong.

And just like that, her expression changes, a sweet smile lighting up her pissed off features until she's absolutely radiant in the shitty lights of her hospital. "Now enjoy your week off, gentlemen. Rest up and make sure you're eating properly. I will find out if you don't, and if I do, the Nazis will be the least of your worries!"

What a weird, bizarre exchange. Naruto glances at Sasuke, who looks like he wants to say something, but Dollface is already turning her back on them to return to her office.

"We're gonna have a party tonight, Doc!" Naruto tells her, unable to contain himself anymore. "There's a pub down by the river we passed on our way in here, doesn't look like the Nazis know about it yet. You comin?"

"Yeah!" Kiba exclaims. "And bring some of these peachy nurses with you, we could use the company!"

His suggestion is greeted with cheers. Dollface grins in spite of herself, and replies, "I'll see what I can do." Then her eyes flicker to Sasuke. "Now I've got rounds to make, you rascals. Go have fun, and stay out of trouble!"

* * *

So they're having a swell time, or Naruto reckons they are anyway. He and Sasuke head to a café in town to kill some time; Kiba did have a good idea, telling Dollface to bring some girls to this party they're having. Otherwise it's just fellas at a bar together, and it's been all fellas for months and months now.

But Naruto ain't interested in other girls. He's thinking about Miss Hinata again.

"D'ya think Miss Hinata would come to a party like this one?" he asks Sasuke wistfully.

"This again?" Sasuke drawls, bored, as they take a seat at the café. A thin, gaunt-looking waiter brings them water. Naruto feels sorry for him. Feels like most people in France are thin and gaunt-looking these days.

"That was weird, huh? That Dr. Yakushi guy. He looks shifty," Naruto says.

Sasuke doesn't reply, but the glare he's giving the cigarette in his hand becomes marginally more severe.

"Dollface looked mighty happy to see you, didn't she?" Naruto jokes, to change the subject and ease the tension. They get so little time off, it'd be a shame to ruin it.

Sasuke rolls his eyes.

This is their friendship. Naruto would never ever change it. But wouldn't it be nice to be a captain like Sasuke is, huh? Not to have to be friends with him when they weren't on duty, then take orders from him and kiss his ass when they are?

But maybe he shouldn't worry about that so much. Sasuke's a good captain. And it sounds like things are going well in the war, and that's a good thing. Soon, maybe, they'll head home. Miss Hinata's waiting for him, right? Maybe.

So because they're shit at talking about girls, and life, and pretty much everything, they sit at the café and drink and smoke Lucky Strikes and call each other names.

It feels like New York again.

"You think Miss Hinata would like New York, asshole?"

"Tch. Idiot."

* * *

The swell time turns into a great time around ten o'clock that night.

_La Louisiane_ is a run-down, dusty old pub that hardly anybody ever goes to anymore. It's not big or important enough to be looked at by the Jerries, so mostly it's just French villagers, the ones that aren't too afraid to go out at night. When Company 742 arrives, all of them in civilian clothes, the pub's mostly deserted. An old bartender stands behind the counter, and he looks pleased at how many customers are filling up his forgotten pub.

"Oi, barman!" Kiba shouts, the worst French speaker and the most excited to get drunk and meet dames. "Whiskey pour tout le monde, s'il vous plait! Toot sweet!"

Naruto's not sure what he said, but the next thing he knows, he's got a big old tankard full of straight whiskey, no junk in it, in his hand and it smells like the old pubs back in New York City. Like hard alcohol and bad decisions. Naruto's a master at both of those.

They convince the bartender to play some American records; Naruto isn't sure who brought them, but once swingtime jazz starts playing on the dusty old grammaphone, he lets out a whoop and soon everyone's dancing.

Jazz got its start in America. It's an American institution. And now, laughing with his friends and knocking back whiskey and listening to Glenn Miller, it feels like New York, it really does. It's easy to forget that he's thousands of miles away from the city he loves, and that it's dangerous and scary and he really might never go home again.

But he drinks until he forgets that, until the edges of reality start to blur, and all that's left is this killer party.

* * *

Dollface arrives soon after, dressed to the nines and looking prettier than Ingrid Bergman. She's brought some of the nurses and assistants from the hospital with her, all of them young, attractive women and the soldiers go nuts. It's a real risk for her and the other girls, coming here; liasions with soldiers are strictly forbidden. But all of them seem willing to take the chance, and all the soldiers are thrilled.

"How 'bout a dance, Doc?" one of them asks Dollface, sidling up to her and offering his hand. She giggles and shakes her head, replying only, "You could never handle me, Private."

Her response is greeted with cheers, as she spots Naruto, grins, and hurries to greet him.

"Ah, Naruto!" she says happily, hugging him; her attitude outside the hospital, where she must be a harsh, stern, unflinching stick-in-the-mud, is the diametric opposite. Sweet and friendly and fun-loving and fancy free, this is Dr. Haruno after hours. Boy is Sasuke lucky! "All right, tell me more about Miss Hinata."

She sits down on a stool at the bar, and when the bartender hurries to bring her a chardonnay, she sends it back and gets a giant tankard of whiskey same as her boys. Her legs swing from the stool because she's so short, and she looks at Naruto with rapt attention.

"She's real swell, Dollface!" Naruto tells her eagerly. It's nice to have someone to talk to about Miss Hinata. Sasuke always rolls his eyes and ignores him, and the other guys think Naruto made her up or something. "She's from Boston, you know?"

"Hm, a Red Sox fan?" Dollface asks with mock skepticism, like it's a deal breaker. "Well, better them than the Yankees!" she adds teasingly.

"The Yankees are the best team in the League, believe it!" Naruto shouts. "Better than the _Phillies_, anyways!"

"Careful, Naruto," Dollface sings. "I'm not above tossing this whiskey in your face and making you buy me a new one! Now keep going."

"All right, all right! Well she's real smart and real sweet…I think she's rich, too. Her daddy's trying to get her married off, and I don't know if she'd marry a soldier or anything, but…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Naruto you barely know this girl. You've never even met her before! What on Earth are you talking about _marriage_ for?"

"I can't help how I feel!" Naruto says confidently. Why is it so hard to believe that he has genuine feelings for Miss Hinata? Just because he's never met her before? "I don't think I'm in love with her yet but that doesn't mean I won't be someday, right? So it's good to start planning right now."

Dollface raises her eyebrows, then laughs. She takes a long swig of her whiskey and replies, "You know what, Naruto? I think you're right. Everyone should plan ahead. Even if it's scary."

"So do you think she would? Marry a soldier, I mean?"

"'Course I do. Picture this. We go home, all of us heroes. You head on up to Boston, get off the plane. You're big and strong and everyone's cheering because you're a war hero! Then you look out over the crowd and there she is. Miss Hinata, coming to see you like you knew she would. You don't know what she looks like, but you just know it's her. And she runs to you and kisses you and says…"

"Nauseating."

They both look around to see Sasuke, hands in the pockets of his trousers, looking bored and aloof as always. Dollface rolls her eyes, and Naruto shouts, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU BASTARD? MISS HINATA IS NOT NAUSEATING!"

"Idiot, you don't even know what she looks like!" Sasuke snaps, but there's no real animosity in his voice. Naruto thinks that's because of Dollface. "Get her to send you a picture or something. So you're not building up this annoying fantasy in your head, only to find out she's a dog."

The thing about being friends with Sasuke is that there's always some hidden smidgen of helpfulness buried deep under all his acrimony. This is his way of dispensing advice to his best friend, and boy is it good advice!

"That's a great idea!" he exclaims. "I'll get Miss Hinata to send me a picture of herself! And I'll send her one of me! Then you'll both see how pretty she is! Believe it!"

"What a load of bullsh-"

"Can it, Captain," Dollface says harshly. She drains the last of her tankard and Naruto wonders where she puts it all in that tiny little red dress with the white polky-dots. She grabs Sasuke by the collar of his white shirt and tugs him down to her level, all of her normal decorum and sense of propriety gone now that she's half-drunk and at a real party for once. "Now are you gonna dance with me, or do I have to ask one of your subordinates to have the honor?"

"Annoying woman," Sasuke snaps back, but he takes her hand anyway, and Naruto can't help but laugh. Sasuke's territorial, and he hates when any man, especially one of his own company, takes a shine to Dollface; he'd rather dance with her himself than watch somebody else do it. She springs off the stool, victory on her flushed, radiant face.

"Now find a nice girl to dance with, Naruto," she orders him sternly, a smile in her eyes. "I'm sure Miss Hinata would understand."

With that, she pulls Sasuke into the throng of moving bodies, the crown of her satin pink hair disappearing into the crowd.

* * *

Many gay hours pass. Drinks are served, the music's blaring, and Naruto's legs ache from all that dancing. Dollface was right about how dames dig soldiers; he thinks he must've danced with every single woman in the bar that evening. He hopes Miss Hinata will forgive him when they're married. If she was here, she certainly would have been the only girl he'd've asked.

Such a good time. He's plastered now and it feels great, even if he knows he'll have a sickening hangover tomorrow morning. That's gonna be worth it, to feel this happy and free, and here in a combat zone, at that!

It's midnight when the happy news is announced. All of a sudden there is a whoop of laughter and everyone's cheering. Naruto, taking a break by the grammaphone, looks up in confusion, not sure what's going on, but Kiba takes care of that, hopping up on one of the ripped-up barstools.

"Hey!" he shouts. "Hey, you morons, listen up!"

Someone has the sense to take the needle off the record, shutting off the music, and everyone stops dancing long enough to listen. Kiba's drunk, too, but there's mirth in his brown eyes as he cries out, "GUESS WHO'S GETTING HITCHED!"

An excited buzz takes over the crowd of soldiers and nurses, as everyone looks around to find the lucky guy.

"Let's all drink to the luckiest guy in the room!" Kiba calls out. "Captain Uchiha!"

Naruto's jaw drops.

Sasuke looks irritated as he stands with his arms folded, Dollface mortified as she hides her blush with her hands. There is a moment of stunned silence, and then the cheering is _explosive._

Naruto just grins, takes another drink, and toasts his best friend. Seems like Dollface was right about the upsides to making plans for the future.

Looks like Sasuke thinks so, too.

* * *

"We didn't tell anyone," Dollface corrects him, looking tired but gorgeous; her pink curls are still intact. "I'm not sure why Kiba felt the need to listen to other people's private conversations and then reveal the content of those conversations to everyone stationed in Europe," she adds scathingly, glaring at Kiba, who's too drunk to register the threat to his safety, "but Naruto, you must understand…this has to be a secret. Until after the war. Do you understand?"

"A secret? Why? From who?"

"Relationships are forbidden between army personnel," Dollface sighs. "They might censure Sasuke, even reassign him. I'd be suspended. Fired, maybe. And think what you want, but you all need me around until we go home. It's very, very important that no one else find out about this, Naruto."

"All right, all right, my lips are sealed!" he laughs. "As long as I get to be best man."

"Of course!" Sakura says at the same time Sasuke snaps, "Not on your life, you moron."

Boy does it feel like New York.

Naruto chuckles to himself and reaches for his umpteenth tankard of the night when there's a sudden, horrible sound coming from outside.

A piercing, keening wail. Gunfire in the distance, but getting closer.

Sirens.

Sasuke reacts first, all traces of drunkenness erased from his face, eyes urgent. And Naruto thinks to himself how the content of a man's character is truly revealed in moments of greatest danger. When the chips are down, many men show their true colors and do what they can to protect themselves. But that's not Sasuke, and Naruto's jealousjealousjealous, but it's what makes him such a great leader.

"BACK TO CAMP!" he shouts across the bar, seizing a pistol from its hiding place behind his back. "Inuzuka, Uzumaki, get the women to the hospital, go out the back! The rest of you, with me!"

There's no moment of heartfelt goodbyes between Sasuke and Sakura, Naruto notes. She's not the typical dame, who might lose her head during an attack like this. Hell no. Instead, she hops off her stool, grabs one of the drunker girls and takes off at a run out the back door. Naruto and Kiba round up the rest and are on their tail.

Leave it to the Jerries to screw up such a swell night.

* * *

**note..** Hello, everybody! Let me know what you think. Please no favorites/alerts without a review. It's just so LAME.

Also: to all the over-18 Americans reading this right now: the American Presidential Debates start tonight. I'll be watching, I'll be learning, and come November, I'll be voting for Obama 2012! Who are YOU voting for?

xoxo Daisy :)


	11. Informant

Southern France

Same Night

SASUKE

Sasuke wonders if it's a good thing, how quickly he can throw the switch. Not an hour ago, he was throwing back copious amounts of thick, ruthless whiskey and twirling a pretty doctor around the dance floor. Now, he's holed up in the old abandoned schoolyard, firing shots from a pistol of all things, barking orders to his men behind him.

An ambush. Totally unexpected. They are completely unprepared.

This was meant to be a week off. Furlough. A break.

Sasuke puts a bullet through the chest of a German soldier trying to break inside and thinks to himself how such a thing can't exist in a warzone.

Company 414 is gone. Wiped out. A bomb and well-prepared German snipers took care of the lot of them, great American heroes who stopped the shipment of arms to Paris. The Major is the only survivor; Sasuke worries that if they can't hold the line against the German ambush, Company 742 won't be far behind the others.

His heart's racing. He doesn't know about the military hospital, doesn't know the status of any of the staff inside, or any of the patients, for that matter. If he's being perfectly honest with himself, and Sasuke is nothing if not perfectly honest, he can admit without much shame that as long as Slim's safe, he's prepared for a total catastrophe otherwise. She would hate to hear him say it, but Sasuke would have no qualms letting the whole damn building burn if it meant Slim would come out of it unscathed.

Priority 1, though, has to be securing the perimeter. Most of the Germans who ambushed them are dead, now, thanks to his deadly accuracy even with the most ineffective weapon, and the anger of his men, fueled by a desperate need for revenge. Company 414, the heroic troop everyone's talking about, is gone, and they're all pissed.

They're also fucking terrified. Because that could've been them.

"Get that wire up!" he yells behind him to Shikamaru. "Send word to the brass!"

He's not really sure who's in charge if Major Hatake is among them, lying wounded in a corner of the room and in desperate need of medical attention. He's not sure who will pick up on the American line when Shikamaru calls, but he knows he needs to let someone know the fate of Company 414.

"Someone knew," he spits beside Naruto, who's reloading a rifle with his expression appropriately grim. "Someone fucking knew where we were stationed! There's no way they came across us by accident."

"I know," Naruto bites back. "A spy, or some shit. Nobody knew about this village. It had to have been a set-up!"

The idea that it's one of his men, one of his trusted subordinates, one of his _friends_ is unthinkable, so he discards the idea immediately. Sasuke would rather practice willful ignorance than serve as the commander of a force made of men he didn't trust. He trusts his men and will do so until he's dead and buried, regardless of how practical it is or not. So he eliminates every man in Company 742 as a possible suspect.

It could have been one of the Major's men, but that's equally as unlikely. Then there's the hospital staff. Sasuke knows Sakura would rather lay down on a landmine than stab one of her allies on the back, but there are other doctors and nurses there, aren't there? Like that shifty Yakushi character…

Remembering the way Slim had so skillfully deflected his interrogation when they'd met up again, he growls under his breath in anger. She was definitely hiding something from him, and he'd been so close to finagling it out of her when she'd turned on the charm. Batted her lashes up at him, assured him nothing was wrong, that it was silly clerical shit around the hospital stressing her out. And he'd wanted so badly to believe that she was all right, wanted to lose himself in her arms and her body and forget where they fucking were for a few minutes, that he'd let it go. Let his…_fiancee_ pull a fast one on him.

What if whatever had her so upset was…

"Don't think on it now!" Naruto snaps, and it's rare for a private to order around a captain, but Sasuke knows now isn't the time to conduct an investigation. A bullet shatters through the glass of the window near his head, slicing through his messy hair, and he growls under his breath and fires a single shot he _knows_ makes its mark, because all at once, it's silent.

"Hold your fire!" he barks at the others, standing slowly, his pistol loaded and ready. Outside is quiet. There's dust and debris and destruction but no signs of life, and the unprepared American troop holed up inside the old school waits with bated breath for another wave of assault, but minutes pass and it doesn't come.

They're safe, it seems.

"Nara, restore communication," Sasuke orders. "Inuzuka, take two men with you and look for any survivors. American or German, they're alive, you bring 'em to me. Naruto, let's go."

"Where to?" Naruto asks, wiping sweat from his forehead, his shoulders heaving with the excitement of what's just happened.

Sasuke's eyes flash dangerously. "The hospital."

* * *

He'd been expecting the entire place to be in shambles. Great concrete slabs of destruction, smoke and fire and ash. Limbs scattered across the landscape, blood smeared on felled trees, sirens bleating a feeble alarm that fell on deaf ears. He'd seen worse, and expected as much.

What he finds, though, surprises him.

The hospital is completely intact, at least on the outside. In fact, he can't even hear an alarm that would have sounded if the staff inside was even aware of an attack in the first place.

He exchanges a sideways glance with Naruto, eyebrows raised, and his best friend must note how suspicious it is as well. Just a few miles away, a deadly skirmish occurred, bombs exploding and bullets firing and screams and chaos; there's no way the hospital employees and patients haven't heard, is there?

Ears still ringing from the cacophony he narrowly escaped, Sasuke motions to Naruto and they both slip inside the back door undetected. His concern for Slim nearly overrides the importance of what he's looking for: survivors, enemies, and an informant that is responsible for the annihilation of Major Hatake's troop. His mission takes a backseat to his woman, and always will.

It's what makes him such a willing failure as a captain.

"Go to Dollface's office," Naruto orders. He's giving a lot of orders to his superior, but Sasuke can't bring himself to care, not when the order is so easily followed. "We're gonna need a doctor for the Major. I'll check B Corridor. Meet here in five."

"Aa," Sasuke agrees, taking off at a run for Slim's little office. Adrenaline fuels him at this point, his drunkenness forgotten, his exhaustion neglected. His hair is streaked with sweat and ash and gunpowder residue stains hands that not an hour ago, threaded themselves through satin pink curls like a comb. The idea of losing Slim, of coming across her body crumpled in death throes like he'd seen in Hatake's fallen soldiers, makes him want to eat his pistol. There's no sense in escaping this hellish war if she can't, right?

_She'd kill me for even thinking of that,_ he reflects as he runs, blind to nearly everything except her door at the end of the hallway. It's shut; summoning strength to his exhausted legs, he kicks the door down, and points his gun directly between two beautiful, shocked green eyes.

"Sakura!" he exclaims, relief rocketing through his spine, and he lowers his gun immediately, half out of fear that he'll shoot through trembling fingers under the tense circumstances. His eyes immediately scan her body, and she looks dusty and a bit flushed, but otherwise okay. He almost never says her name, marking the seriousness of the situation, and he demands, "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine!" she replies breathlessly, eyes drinking him in, and he knows she had to have been terrified his body would have joined the others back at the school. In a rare moment of emotional fragility, she knocks aside his gun arm and throws her arms around his neck. He's so grateful to feel her against him, her heart racing in anxiety but so beautifully, beautifully _alive_, that for a moment he sags against her before remembering where he is and what he's doing.

"What's the situation here?" he asks, pulling back slightly, but not letting go of her waist with his free hand while his other is still locked and ready around his gun.

"We all made it back," she answers quickly, and she peers quickly over his shoulder, presumably to see if someone is coming. "All of us are fine, that were with you…Sasuke I don't think anyone else is even aware of what happened! We can't reveal it without being censured ourselves…"

There's no question; the hospital administration cannot know of the nurses' and Slim's involvement in the skirmish tonight. They'd most likely arrest them. Picturing Slim locked up inside a military prison for the rest of the war makes his stomach churn.

"What about the rest of you?" she demands, fear in her eyes. "Sasuke, are the rest…?"

"742's fine," he reveals, watching her almost crumple in relief. He's her one and only man, but he's one of 20 boys she calls her own. Losing any of them, especially after Shino's untimely death, would crush her more than it would him. "But the Major's the only one out of 414 who survived."

Immediately she gasps, placing a hand to her mouth in shock. Tears burn in her eyes as she whispers, "Sasuke someone had to have tipped off the Germans about this. There's no way they just _happened_ upon two American companies by mistake."

He's glad she's so bright. He doesn't have to explain much for her to catch on to their trouble.

"Do you have any idea who it could be?" Slim asks. "None of your men, I'm sure…what about Major Hatake's?"

"No time to think on it right now," Sasuke tells her. "We need a doctor for him. He was badly wounded."

It's like throwing a switch, he realizes. The same way he can transform from relaxed New York cop on his day off to a cold, calculating killer, Slim can switch from fretting, maternal rationalizer to professional medic. The worry in her eyes melts immediately into determination, and she moves out of his grasp to seize a medical pack from one of the drawers in her office desk.

"What's his condition?" she asks. "Stable? Critical?"

Sasuke doesn't know the medical term for it, so he answers as best as he can. "His leg's blown half to hell. Bleeding from his head. It's bad."

She nods curtly and snatches a few more things from the supply cupboard, shoving them into her pack.

"We're meeting Naruto," he tells her. "Let's g-"

"Captain Uchiha!" a silky voice with a heavy British accent remarks from the doorway, and Sasuke points his gun at the newcomer.

It's Dr. Yakushi, looking more amused than threatened, as he raises his hands quickly in surrender.

"Hold your fire, Captain!" he almost laughs, and Sasuke isn't sure why, but he's reluctant to lower his weapon. At Slim's fierce glance, he does so, slowly. "Whatever brings you to the hospital at such an obscene hour? I was under the impression that you were examined by the talented hands of Dr. Haruno here."

Sasuke's eyes narrow, but Slim is the one who responds.

"There's been an attack," she says coolly. "Captain Uchiha came to inform me, and to see that a medic is dispatched to tend to the wounded."

"An attack? How dreadful." Dr. Yakushi does not sound as though he thinks it's dreadful at all, and Sasuke is overcome by a wave of dislike. His beady-eyed gaze rests overlong on Slim, and makes Sasuke furious for a reason he isn't sure he understands. "How serious was it?"

He opens his mouth to tell him the fate of 414, but Slim, again, cuts him off before he can answer.

"Status unknown, Dr. Yakushi," she lies, and Sasuke steals an imperceptible glance her way. What reason could she have to lie to her superior like that? What's the harm in Yakushi knowing how the Germans wiped 414 off the face of the planet? "I'll return by morning, once I've stabilized the survivors."

"Very _courageous,_ Dr. Haruno. A young, inexperienced woman such as yourself, charging off to the unsavory task of combat medic…would you not be better suited for running clinic duty while one of the male doctors investigates with Captain Uchiha?"

It's a slight against her competence, and Sasuke knows his woman is proud. But she's also planning something, and he can't venture to guess as to what, and Major Hatake is bleeding and bleeding and might lose his _leg_ if they don't attend to him quickly, and…

"None of them are as steady under pressure as I am," Slim replies, keeping her voice determinedly even. "It's my presence that Captain Uchiha has requested."

Dr. Yakushi smirks, and slides his glasses up his nose with his ring finger.

"I am not surprised," he says smoothly, and Sasuke feels Slim flinch beside him. Her grip on her medical pack is tight, knuckles bleached. He notes blankly that she _fears_ this man, and he can't possibly understand _why._ "Your presence, Dr. Haruno, is the request of many of our boys in uniform. And most recently…Captain Uchiha has been especially…demanding of your time."

Sasuke glares at him.

"Far be it from me to keep you from your civic duty," Dr. Yakushi sighs, hands raised in a gesture of dismissal. "Tend to the wounded, Doctor. And report to me immediately in the morning what has happened. See to it that any of the critically injured soldiers are dispatched at once to the operating theaters."

"Yes, sir," Slim bites out. "If you would lead the way, Captain Uchiha."

"And another thing, Dr. Haruno."

Yakushi's smirk widens, his gaze boring into Slim's in a show of intimidation. "Remember, from now on, that your responsibility is to your direct superior. And regardless of your personal feelings, that man is not Captain Uchiha. It would do you well to show the proper respect becoming of a man of my station. Insubordination is an imprisonable offense…it would grieve me to see that pretty face of yours behind bars."

It's a warning, and it's a threat, and Slim manages, "Yes, sir," before Sasuke's had enough. He grabs Slim by the arm, and he feels how unusually cold her skin is. He spares Dr. Yakushi a withering, almost threatening glare on the way out, and pulls Slim down the hallway towards the exit.

"Once Hatake's stable," Sasuke grinds out, when they're outside waiting for Naruto, "you're gonna fucking tell me what the hell's going on with that guy."

"Sasuke _please_ don't ask me," Slim whispers. "Please, just trust me. Trust that I have a reason for, for not telling you right now. Okay? Can you do that for me?"

What annoys him most is that there really isn't much he's not willing to do for the woman, for as secretive and self-serving as she is. She has but to look up at him with sad green eyes and a pout to her lips and he could move mountains if she asked him to.

But she won't get her way this time.

"When he's stable," he repeats, "I want answers, Sakura."

He recognizes defeat in her expression, but before she can reply, Naruto calls over to them with a wave.

"B Corridor's secure!" he reports, even as he sweeps Slim up in a one-armed hug of joy that she's all right. "Doesn't look like anyone at the hospital was affected by the attack."

"We'll talk later," Sakura says abruptly. "Take me to Major Hatake, I need to treat him."

Sasuke wants to argue, but she's right. They have to stabilize the Major before they can even hope to continue their mission overseas, and she's due back in the hospital in the morning, so they're running out of time. His grip on her arm doesn't loosen as the three of them run hell-for-leather back to the school, cloaked in darkness and shrouded in secrecy.

* * *

Kiba and the others didn't find any survivors. Instead, Sasuke has his men collect the American dead for burial. Leaving them to rot in pieces on the street of this hidden village is an indignity.

He stands guard in the schoolhouse, pistol loaded, gaze locked on Slim, who's kneeling over Major Hatake elbow-deep in his blood. Shikamaru is still working on the phone line, which means no one besides their company and the nurses who saw it all happen know the fate of 414, and 742's narrow escape.

Sasuke wants to know why Slim lied right to Yakushi. It doesn't add up, doesn't make sense. He knows she doesn't like the guy, but Slim's only ever been respectful of her superiors, regardless of her personal attitude towards them. Deliberately withholding information is obstruction of justice. If caught, she could be arrested.

So why the hell is she risking jail time? What doesn't she want Yakushi to know?

He can't ask now, though. She's a doctor right now, not a confusing girl who gives him more questions than answers, concentrating fully on saving the Major's life with her makeshift tourniquets and sutures and bandages and all sorts of medieval-looking shit that he wouldn't have the first idea what to do with. Her hair's pinned back out of her face, and the back of her neck is sweaty but she doesn't stop for anything, mumbling to herself under her breath as she works.

"I pulled the slug from his thigh," she reveals after an hour or so; Major Hatake is anesthetized on the floor, the hole in his leg bandaged as she cleans the dried blood from his skin. "He's badly concussed, though, and he'll need more treatment than I can provide right now. He's got to be moved to a military hospital." Her eyes meet his, and he's taken aback by the severity of her gaze. "But not mine."

"What do you mean, not your hospital?" Shikamaru demands, glancing up from his work on the wires. "It's your job to treat military wounded, ain't it? Where else can we take him?"

"Sakura what the hell is going on?" Sasuke snaps.

She bites her lip, nervous under his towering temper, and what comes out makes him see red.

"I can't tell you," she whispers. "I can't. I won't. Just...just tomorrow, take him somewhere else. _Anywhere_ else. And I'll explain everything later."

She's on her feet and headed towards the door now, but like hell is Sasuke gonna let her go after a bombshell like _that._ He seizes her wrist and pulls her around to face him, for the first time genuinely furious with the woman he's going to marry.

"Enough!" he snaps, ignoring the way she flinches at his volume. Shikamaru and Naruto are staring but neither intervene, knowing that Sasuke might lose his temper with Slim, but he'd rather eat his gun than hurt her. "This ain't a game, Slim! Whatever fucking secrets you're keeping are gonna get you and all of us killed if you don't tell me _right now _what the _hell _is going on!"

Slim just shakes her head, tears streaming from her eyes. She grabs the back of his neck in a show of surprising strength and yanks him down so she can kiss him. He tastes salt and feels tears against his cheeks that aren't his own, Slim's bloodstained fingers sliding lovingly on his face, before she pulls back with all the remorse in the world shining in her eyes, and all of the grim resolution, as well.

"Stay with your men, Captain," she orders faintly. "I'll...I swear. I _swear_ I'll explain later. Be careful."

Sasuke's duty-bound to stay with his men, and when she pushes him away from her, he has no choice but to let her go. The door slams shut behind her, and she's gone.

Taking his sanity with her, and also his heart.

_What the hell is she keeping from him?_

What the hell is worth risking her life for?

He doesn't know. But he's not leaving this fucking country until he finds out.

* * *

**note..** Hi there! Thanks for all the feedback on this story, it really keeps me going!

Yes. Sakura has a reason for being so secretive. WILL BE REVEALED NEXT CHAPTER STAY TUNED I HOPE.

And let me know, as always, what you think! I love hearing from you guys. Keeps me inspired!

xoxo Daisy :)


	12. Traitor

France

The End of Everything

SAKURA

Morning's light carries Sakura back to the hospital.

She runs alone, no one to escort her, in a foreign country the night after a bloody battle. Her hair, once set in pristine curls, flies behind her straight and messy, sweat on her brow and blood on her hands. She prays and prays and prays that Sasuke will have followed her orders, ambiguous as they are, and that the Major will receive medical attention elsewhere.

She isn't sure how she knows, but she's absolutely _certain_ that if he's taken back to her hospital, he won't survive. And the last thing the Allies need right now is the loss of Major Hatake.

Her feet are blistered from the cute little heels she chose to wear, and her footfalls are loud on the brush beneath her. The forest is full of noise this early in the morning, animals (she hopes they're animals and not Jerries looking to fire a shot) scurrying through the bushes, the wind whistling through the trees, and her gasping, heaving breaths as she puts as much distance between herself and Company 742 as possible.

She knows she's earned Sasuke's fury with her ambiguity, but she hopes she hasn't lost his trust. She needs it now more than ever. They all do.

Sakura has a suspicion, see. And her suspicions are usually born of hunches, and her hunches are born of first impressions, and her first impressions are born of that gut feeling you get the first ever time you meet someone and you make an opinion about them and it's almost impossible to change your mind. She doesn't have much else to go on, but Sakura's suspicions and hunches and first impressions and gut feelings are almost always right.

And the only one in her crosshairs right now is Dr. Kabuto Yakushi.

And she is certain, beyond all doubt, that he is a traitor.

Things that didn't make sense to her before are starting to, little by little. Kabuto's unusual propensity for squandering their meager funds (none of the other doctors were keeping anymore money for themselves than strictly necessary, all of them pouring their funds into the hospital); his abnormally high mortality rate around the hospital lately, much higher than usual for a doctor of his caliber; and now this bloody massacre of an entire American company?

_How would they have known where to find the Major's troop? _Sakura thought, plowing through the woods as the hospital came into view at last. _Someone had to have told them where they would be. And the only people who even knew about the Major's victory…about this furlough…are either dead, back in that village, or in the hospital. And who else could have told? And how?_

She can't tell anyone, of course. Not until there is evidence to corroborate her theory, because right now, that's all it is. A theory, and a weak one at that, if she's being painfully honest with herself. Her dislike of her superior is public knowledge, therefore her credibility is discarded.

And Sasuke can't speak up on her behalf, not without outing himself as her fiancee. And they need him over here; he can't be exposed.

Besides, if he knew what she was thinking, if he believed her, he would never let her investigate on her own. If anything, he would have her on a plane back to the States in the same hour. He'd try to take care of it himself, and if Sakura is right about this, then Dr. Yakushi is two steps ahead of all of them.

She breathes hard to knead out the stitch in her side as she bursts into the hospital through the front doors. The other doctors are startled at her sudden arrival, but they keep moving through the halls like she doesn't exist. For the first time, Sakura is grateful that the other doctors don't bother with her.

A traitor. A _traitor_. The very notion makes her sick to her stomach. War is ghastly enough, horrendous enough, without the additional fear of wondering if you can trust even those who say they're on your side. And if she's right about Yakushi, then it begs the question: Who else is in on this?

_I need to check his patient files,_ she thinks, determined, _that's step one._

Her plan is relatively simple in its infant stages: check Dr. Yakushi's files. The high mortality rate among his patients is unusual, but she never really questioned it before. It's war, and they're doctors: they lose people all the time. Even the able surgeons, like Dr. Yakushi, slip on occasion, and sometimes the wounds are just too severe to fix.

Now, it's little more than a red flag. Because Sakura knows she is not yet on Yakushi's level, but she has lost exponentially fewer patients than he has. How she could have overlooked that before, she doesn't understand, but now it's crucial information.

She ducks behind the front desk and starts pulling out manila folders from the file cabinets, bloodied fingers trembling as she tries to read the names. _Attending physician: Kabuto Yakushi, MD. Supervising surgeon: Kabuto Yakushi, MD._

Everything with the bastard's name on it, she snatches up into her arms; she can't look at them here, not properly, it has to be in private. If she's found out...she doesn't want to imagine the consequences.

No one looks up when she hurries from behind the desk to the nurses' quarters, laden down with two dozen of Dr. Yakushi's patient folders; she checks that the room is empty and slips inside, locking the door securely behind her, and then she starts to read.

What she finds is exactly what she's expected, and precisely what she's feared.

A Major. Three lieutenants. A chief strategist. Six colonels.

Officers.

All of them are officers.

And Yakushi's signature is on all of their death warrants.

They even have the same cause of death listed: _heart failure._

_How could we all have missed this?_ She thinks wildly, fingers shaking. _Heart failure. HEART FAILURE. These aren't war deaths. This is murder!_

She has another theory: potassium chloride. Used in critical surgery to stop the heartbeat so the heart can be operated on…lethal if overused. She'll need to run a few tests to be sure, so a trip to the morgue is in order, but this all but confirms it:

Kabuto has been slaying high-ranking American military men from the inside. Assassinating the higher-ups to try and weaken the army.

Shivering head to toe, she stumbles from the nurses' quarters into the bathroom and barely makes it to the toilet in time before she's vomiting everything in her stomach.

Bile burns in her throat as she flushes and sits on the edge of the bathtub and bursts into tears. This is more than gross misconduct. It's more than a betrayal of their cause. It's a betrayal of their _profession._ Using the practice of medicine as a means of surreptitious murder…violating a patient's trust in the sanctuary of hospitals…murdering them while they lie there, helpless and defenseless…

It's sickening. It's _revolting._

She wants Yakushi dead. She wants to do it herself.

Eyes wide as she happens upon this new realization, Sakura wonders if she has the fortitude to do it. To take another man's life in revenge for all the damage he has caused. To spare countless others, can she commit such an atrocity?

_You've always wanted to be one of the boys,_ she reminds herself harshly, tears streaming, shoulders heaving. _Here it is. Your chance to pick up a gun and be the hero you tell Sasuke he is for ending the lives of people like Yakushi._

She will run the necessary tests. She will visit the morgue for confirmation. But if what she finds is what she suspects she will find, heart-stopping poison in the blood of Yakushi's victims, then an assassination is the only possible solution. And she's the only one who can get close enough to him to pull it off.

Her status as a doctor, as one who saves lives regardless of her personal feelings towards the people she works on, is thrown out the window. Because this is fucking war, and Sakura realizes that you get what you pay for when you sign up for something like this.

And she loves her boys. She loves her boys more than herself, and she loves her country more than all of them. So even if it goes against everything she believes in…

She will do what she has to do.

* * *

His quarters are locked, but Sakura is from Philadelphia, and she knows her way around a lockpick set. The old hairpin trick does the job in no time, and, making sure she's not being followed, she slips inside. Shuts the door behind her. Locks it for good measure.

She needs proof. That's all. Just one vial of potassium chloride and that will be the end of Dr. Yakushi. It's hard evidence. She has to find it.

She searches for a long while, keeping her footfalls light and her movements slow and relaxed lest someone see a female in his room through the large bay windows. She checks under his bed, between the mattress and the boxspring, in his pillows. She rummages through his closet, through his luggage from Britain; she opens his desk drawers one by one, but finds nothing.

Until her foot catches on a dip in the floor, and she nearly loses her balance. Confused, she looks down to see a hole in the wooden floorboards beneath her. She frowns and bends to examine it, sticks her finger in the hole, and to her shock, the entire board comes up with ease.

A hidden compartment. She sucks in a breath of air.

Inside it is a box. And inside the box is exactly what she needs. The colorless solution that ended so many lives prematurely.

It's true. He's a traitor.

She seizes the vial and replaces the floorboard, panting with her victory, and stands, only to hear the sound of approaching footsteps. Someone stops before the door. She hears the key turn slowly in the lock.

Her heart races. Adrenaline courses through her body like lava in a volcano. Should she hide? But that would look even more suspicious, so she bites the bullet. Does what she planned for, does what she dressed for. She tucks the evidence down the front of her dress, then throws herself languidly across Yakushi's bed, just as the door opens.

If Dr. Yakushi is surprised by her visit, he doesn't show it.

Instead, he leans against the doorway to his private quarters, smirk in place as he regards her artfully-selected wardrobe and the convincing, seductive smile she keeps plastered on her face. The provocative position she's assumed. Like he's expected her all this time.

"Why, Dr. Haruno," he remarks, eyebrows raised. "What brings you here at such an hour? I know I asked you to report to me the status of the survivors of Company 742, but I doubt you needed to doll yourself up like that to do so."

She doesn't let her smile falter, but to hear him so much as _mention_ her brave, brave boys from his traitorous tongue makes her angry enough to kill. (The gun she's slipped into the pocket of her little blue dress has never felt friendlier.) She bats her eyelashes and fluffs her freshly-washed hair, inwardly repulsed by what she's doing, but grimly resolute.

"Excuse me for the interruption, Kabuto," she murmurs, using his given name the way she vowed she never would. A flare of attraction passes through his eyes at her sultry tone, and she tamps down the all-powerful urge to vomit. "I hope I am not disturbing you."

"I don't think 'disturbing me' is the phrase I would use," he remarks salaciously.

She chuckles while her stomach turns, her body tilted towards his in open invitation. This seems to be all the affirmative he needs, because without another word, he starts to unbutton his jacket as he makes his way across the room to the bed.

"I admit I'm surprised, though," he murmurs, leaning on the bed on one knee, flinty eyes raking across her body with open arousal. He hovers over her, taking a light pink curl between his fingers, while she considers vomiting all over him. "I would have thought that Captain Uchiha's caveman-like claim on you would have discouraged a meeting of this nature."

At the mention of Sasuke, she is visited with an intense desire to rip Yakushi's glasses off and stab them into his eyes. Instead, she shelves that fierce desire (for the moment) and shakes her head.

"We were friends," she sighs wistfully.

"Were?" Kabuto echoes, turning his nose into her hair and inhaling deeply.

"He's dead," she says, and she keeps her face straight, apathetic, even though the very _idea_ of Sasuke dying makes her half-crazy. "Gunned down last night, with the rest of his company. I left it in my report on your desk."

"Must've missed it." Sakura feels him kiss her neck, and chokes back her fury. "You don't seem upset about it, Sakura."

"It's war," she says coldly. "Only the strong survive."

He chuckles deep and dark and she feels it in her chest, before he tilts her face to meet his. "I agree with you there," he murmurs. "I have been waiting for a very long time, Sakura. To demonstrate my…ah…strength to you."

She smirks and lets him kiss her quickly on the mouth, but she turns her head before it goes too far. Sasuke's face appears in her mind, and not even for this terrifying charade can she pretend that what she's doing is okay. He would be beyond furious to know she's reduced herself to this, but she's establishing a cover for him and the rest of his company. Kabuto is the traitor, the mole she's suspected him of being, and if he knew that Sasuke and his troop had survived the skirmish, he would simply try again to eliminate them.

At least this way, he would believe them dead already, giving them time to get away from the mad doctor's traitorous influence.

"You are a very beautiful woman," he growls in her ear, catching her earlobe between his teeth.

She opens her mouth to respond, without having the slightest idea what she's going to say, but at that moment, the sirens sound, interrupting them. Her heart catches in her throat as the alarm bells ring, heralding the arrival of another platoon of wounded soldiers. _Please don't be you,_ she begs an invisible Sasuke. _Please don't be any of the others!_

But the sirens give her a credible reason to shove Kabuto off of her and spring to her feet. "I'm sorry," she says, without feeling sorry at all; she has to get out of here, has to sneak off with the evidence, has to treat whoever is coming in. Has to get the hell away from this man that's responsible for the death of so many good men. "I have to get to the OR…"

Instead, there is a flash of movement behind her, and Kabuto's body is pressed close to hers. She's frozen, eyes wide as she stares at the door that's way too far away for her to reach. One of his hands is wrapped around her bicep hard enough to hurt, as he breathes in her ear from behind.

"Do you think you've fooled me, Doctor?" he asks quietly, the edge of his voice sharper even than the serrated blade of the army knife he has pressed against her throat. "Do you think I am not entirely aware of what you suspect me of?"

_He knows,_ she thinks with dread. The knife scrapes her skin lightly. She feels blood start to flow, and knows that denying it now is a waste of breath. _He knows that I know about him._

The sirens continue to sound, and outside the room, the hospital is a flurry of motion as the doctors and nurses rush to stabilize the new patients. No one would hear her scream now even if she did. She's locked in a room with a traitor, and he knows that she knows what he is.

She is going to die, she realizes.

"I have to give you credit, though, my dear girl. I did not anticipate this angle...this fake sexual interest in me. You were most convincing...it's too bad, though, one of the other nurses discovered your stash of medical files in the women's quarters. She came to me wondering what it could all mean, lovely girl. But I knew."

"You killed them," she hisses, deciding to ride out her lie to the very end. At the very least, she can protect Sasuke and the boys from Yakushi and whoever he's really loyal to, even if tonight will end with her death. "You killed those men. I know what you did, how you did it."

He chuckles in her ear, a terrifying laugh, and the knife presses deeper into her neck. She clenches her fists and wonders if she'll have enough time to reach the gun in her pocket before he slashes her throat open.

"Too bad you never reached the others with your…theory," he growls. "You are a very clever girl, Dr. Haruno. Very clever indeed. It's a shame. You would have been the best of your generation, if you had learned to keep that pretty little nose out of other people's business."

"Why did you do it?" she asks coolly, effecting fearlessness, even though she's so scared she wants to cry. Her hand moves surreptitiously towards her pocket, and she ignores the way the knife cuts her when she speaks. "Who are you working for?"

Another deep, throaty chuckle. "I daresay you'll find out when this war is over," he growls.

"You won't let me live that long," she sneers, her fingers closing around the cold handle of the pistol in her pocket.

"True," he sighs. "A shame, really. I regret having to cut open that pretty neck of yours. But I'm afraid you've left me no choice. Any last words?"

_I love you, Sasuke. I love you, you stupid fool. That better not be you or any of the others coming into my hospital. Stay away. Stay safe. We'll always have Paris._

_I would have loved to see New York with you._

"Burn in hell, you traitor!" she screams, and she draws the gun out of her pocket, shoves Kabuto's knife hand away, and sprints for the door with a frantic shot over her shoulder.

Kabuto lets out a howl of pain and crumples, but she doesn't look back to see where she shot him, if he's alive, if he's okay. Instead she barrels into the locked door as hard as she can, hand closed around the vial in her dress that will serve as the evidence she needs to turn Kabuto in, and runs hell for leather down the hallway and out of sight.

The wound on her neck is bleeding but she flings herself forward, never looking back. It's the end of her career as a military doctor. And stopping now?

Will be the end of her life.

She disappears into the forest with nothing but adrenaline and prayer carrying her on.

* * *

**note..** i think you all saw that one coming, yeah? kabuto being the mole that led to the extermination of kakashi's company. i think of sakura to be the kind of selfless-to-a-fault type, who would take on all the danger herself if it meant protecting her loved ones, which is why she lied to kabuto about sasuke and the others getting killed with the rest of them in the ambush. kind of a last ditch effort to protect him, yafeelme? in case that wasn't clear.

anyways, hope you liked it. i update my stories in clusters, so sorry if i'm monopolizing the interweb on all y'all's alert subscriptions. review, please :)

xoxo daisy :)


	13. Mission

"Dear Miss Hinata,

Sorry to reply so late. I don't know if you worry about me up there in Boston, but if it's not too much trouble, I like to think that you do. Getting your letters cheers me up, makes me happy, gives me hope, if it's not too bold of me to say so, so I hope it cheers you up and makes you happy and gives you hope when you hear from me, too. That's why I don't like to keep you waiting too long. I've seen the picture shows, how sweet dames like you are all worried and torn up inside waiting to hear from the soldiers, and all that jazz. So I don't want to sound like I'm laying it on too thick, but that's the way I feel.

Anyway, bad news. Real bad. You know Dollface, the girl doctor who came with us overseas? She's gone missin. Nobody knows where she's at. I can't say too much since they search the letters sometimes, to make sure dummies like me don't let too much sensitive stuff slip to the wrong people, so I can't tell you a lot about it. But I can tell you that we all miss her something fierce.

Sasuke, more than anybody. They just got engaged, did you know that, Miss Hinata? Nah, I don't see how you could, I haven't written to you since it happened. Wasn't nobody surprised except maybe Sasuke himself. I never thought he'd be the kind of guy to get himself hitched, especially this young, till we met Dollface. Then I just knew they'd wind up together somehow.

But he's taking it hard. Real hard. He's like a loose cannon nowadays; tore up the hospital she was stationed at looking for her, but nobody there knew where to find her. Then, just when he was about to head off on this crazy search party, we got orders from the Major breaking our fur-low (that's fancy military speak for "break") to ship out. They think our position's compromised. (Another fancy military speak for "the Jerries found us and we need to get the hell out of there.)

So we're moving back through France again. Up to a town called "Too-loose," I think it's called. Sasuke's a wreck, but he's trying not to show it. I know he doesn't want to be here with us, he wants to be out looking for Dollface, but he's our captain. He has to stay, even if he hates it.

So I kind of wanted you to know, Miss Hinata, if it's not too bold of me to say so, that I'm real glad you're back in Boston. Safe and sound. I know it can't be much fun doing the whole war bond thing and writing to poor saps like me, but I'm glad you've got a nice place to sleep tonight. So I'm kinda like Sasuke. I'm wondering where my special girl is right now. Only I can sleep easy knowing you're safe.

Do you mind if I call you my special girl, Miss Hinata? Hope it's not too bold. Sasuke thinks I'm taking this whole thing too far. That you could be a dog or something. But I don't think so. I think you must be the prettiest girl in Massychusetts.

I hope everything's going well for you. I hope I get to meet you someday. Sasuke thinks it's a bad idea but Dollface said so, she said before she went missing, she said that I'd get to meet you. I hope so.

Take care. See you when we get Hitler.

Naruto."

* * *

"Dear Naruto,

I was so relieved to finally hear from you. It's been a few weeks, and here in America, we never like to wait too long for communication from the Army. It doesn't usually spell good news, and even if we've only ever spoken through letters, I feel very…attached to you. If it's not too bold of me to say so.

I'm very sorry to hear about your friend. I understand that you can't tell me too many things, but I appreciate that you feel comfortable enough to talk to me about her. I hope she's safe, and that you find each other again. From what you've told me of Sasuke, he seems to be very much in love with her; I can only imagine how he's suffering, not knowing where she is.

I'm glad to know that you take comfort in me being here in Boston, but I have to tell you the truth, Naruto: I envy your friend Dollface. Even now, in this uncertain, dangerous time, she is serving our country directly, at a time when most women only ever help our boys in uniform in a USO dance or, like me, selling war bonds as quickly as we can. She is very brave to do this, and I envy her. I envy her freedom and her courage, her tenacity and her strength. I hope very much that she is safe, and I also hope that, despite your satisfaction that I remain safe in the States, I can take up an active role like she has.

On that note: I've signed up for nursing school. My father disapproved greatly, but we all must do our part. You've shown me that. And yes, we've never actually seen one another, but I feel like I know you very well by now.

I would very much like to be your special girl.

I'm praying for your safe return. I'll be waiting in Boston, Naruto. Keep me posted and send me letters, silly letters, useless letters, funny letters, just words that let me know you're alive and well. Give my best to Sasuke and your comrades. We're all pulling for you.

Love always,

Hinata"

* * *

Naruto drools over the picture Miss Hinata's included with her most recent letter.

She's as pretty as he knew she would be. Camera shy if the way she's blushing at the camera is any indication; he only knows it's a blush because the gray is darker on her white white white face at her cheeks. She's got long dark hair and light eyes and she's standing under a tree, and she's smiling.

Black and white, and she's beautiful. Just as pretty as Dollface, but in a different way.

He wants to show Sasuke. Wants him to see that in this respect, anyway, he's catching up to his best friend who always seems to be lightyears ahead. Wants him to acknowledge that, romantically, he's leveling out the playing field.

He can't bring himself to, though. On the long truck ride to Too-loose, Sasuke is stone cold silent. He says nothing to any of his men, just stares out the flap of the back like he wants to run away. Major Hatake accompanies them, patched up pretty well by the talented hands of Dollface and then, a combat medic who arrived with the driver that's taking them to Too-loose. They followed Dollface's instructions, and didn't take the Major back to her hospital. They're still not sure why she told them not to, but they trust her.

"She'll be all right," Naruto says quietly.

Sasuke doesn't look up. He's white, white all over. His hands are clenched like rocks around his gun, his eyes are hard and severe. Naruto can read it all over him. He wants to find Dollface. He doesn't want to leave the area while she's missing.

"She's tough. She can take care of herself. She's a…"

"You know _nothing_ about this," Sasuke snarls, and his voice is like the crack of a whip. When he finally faces Naruto from their cramped position in the back of the truck, there's nothing friendly about him. He's almost a stranger. Naked fury written all over his face, his lips pulled back in a sneer, eyes full of so much anger and so much frustration and so much _hurt_ that for a moment, Naruto doesn't even recognize his own best friend.

Sasuke Uchiha, streetwise city cop from the ghetto, never felt so many things at once. He's sure of that.

"Shut up about it," Sasuke growls, like an animal. The others are silent, eyeing him warily, like he's a loose cannon. Major Hatake looks him over but doesn't say anything either. Now's not the time to push his buttons. "You know damn well that leaving her here, alone, we just signed her death certificate."

"That's not true!" Naruto argues, determined to reinject his doubtful best friend with hope, because without hope, they might as well just head back home to the States. "You know Dollface, she…"

"She's dead," Sasuke snaps. "I'm never gonna see her again."

"Not _Sakura,_ you don't know she's dead! Come on man, where's your faith in her? She's probably just…"

"_Not one more word about her,_" Sasuke whispers, his tone pure acid. "That's an _order,_ Uzumaki."

Naruto withdraws, stung. Sasuke _never_ pulls rank on him, not unless it's serious.

The rest of the ride is silent. Naruto stares at Miss Hinata's picture but he doesn't show her to anybody else.

Company 742 is grieving.

* * *

Naruto figures he should make peace, even if he doesn't think he did anything wrong in the first place. Sasuke might be his captain, but he's first and foremost his best friend. And he needs help right now.

They're in Too-loose. Company 742 has met up with several British troops stationed there, and Major Hatake's discussing things with their captain while the rest of them wait at their new barracks. Sasuke withdraws immediately, once they're dismissed. Sits underneath a tree far away from the rest of them, stares up at the sky like he's anywhere but here.

Naruto sits beside him. Doesn't wait for an invite. Best friends don't need an invite.

"She'd kill you if she saw you acting like this," he says coldly. Best friends should tell the truth always.

Sasuke flinches, but he doesn't run off at the mouth, like before. He's listening.

"Pull yourself together, man. You're our captain. We need you to have your head on straight. You can't do your job if you're worrying about her. Dollface is gonna be fine. You know her. She's too smart and stubborn to get hurt."

A few beats of silence, then, "Then where _is_ she, Naruto? She never said goodbye."

"Like she ever would," Naruto scoffs. "She'll let you know where she is. Somewhere safe and sound, just like Miss Hinata. Planning the wedding."

"I should never have asked her to marry me," Sasuke murmurs, more to himself than to Naruto.

Before Naruto can figure out whatever the hell _that_ means, Major Hatake, on crutches, hobbles out of the meeting tent to the middle of the barracks.

"Uchiha, Uzumaki," he says calmly. "A word."

They glance at each other before following the Major back into the tent. The British officers are inside as well, looking roughed up but all right. Naruto wonders if they're getting much action up here in Too-loose.

"Take a seat, gentlemen," says one of the officers, a round-eyed man named Yamato. Naruto does but Sasuke remains standing, arms folded. Whatever this is for, Naruto can tell he's not in the mood.

"I've called you both here for a reason," the Major says, sitting down and resting his wounded leg. "To discuss the disappearance of Dr. Haruno."

Sasuke flinches at her name. Naruto stands strong.

"We have reason to believe that Dr. Haruno was conducting a private investigation into the destruction of Company 414," the Major reveals. Naruto's eyes widen. Sasuke's head whips around to face him. It's silent in the tent for a moment.

An investigation?

"For what, sir?" Naruto asks, confused.

"Dr. Haruno worked under a physician named Dr. Kabuto Yakushi, correct?" Captain Yamato asks, directing the question to Sasuke.

"Yeah," he replies, frowning, clearly thinking hard.

"That creepy guy?" Naruto asks. "Sir?" he adds, because he's got to remember to show respect to his commanding officers.

"Can either one of you explain why she left _this_ in my pocket, while she treated me?" Major Hatake asks, whipping a piece of paper from his jacket and tossing it to Sasuke, who catches it in one hand and rips it open.

Inside are a few words in Dollface's pretty handwriting. Naruto leans over Sasuke's shoulder to read:

"Kabuto. US officers. KCN. Mole. 414."

It's Greek to Naruto. He has no idea what any of that gobbledygook means. Maybe this is just Dollface's idea of a bad joke?

"KCN is the formula for the chemical compound potassium cyanide," Captain Yamato explains, his eyes owlish in the dim light of the officers' tent. "It's a poison. Causes cardiac arrest and heart failure. Odorless, colorless…"

"What's that got to do with Dollf…Dr. Haruno?" Naruto demands. None of this makes sense.

"This note isn't much to go on," Major Hatake says with a sigh, "but if we've interpreted it correctly…Dr. Haruno was trying to tell us that the mole we are searching for…the one responsible for the annihilation of my company…is Dr. Yakushi."

Sasuke is stunned, even more so than Naruto. He slams his hands down on the table.

"_Shit,_" he swears. "That's what she was…_shit._"

Major Hatake just watches him for a few moments, before sighing again. "I'm going to assume then, that the rumors are true about the two of you," he says softly.

Sasuke doesn't say anything. Naruto's not terribly bright, but he's bright enough to know that that's as good a confession as anyone's getting.

"So Dr. Haruno was acting strangely, then?" the Major continues. "Did she mention anything about Dr. Yakushi specifically? Anything before this note, that might lead you to believe she found him responsible?"

"She didn't…say it in so many words," Sasuke says stiffly. He looks terribly, terribly angry, glaring at Dollface's note like it's Dollface herself. "She was…uneasy around him. And when she treated you," here, he looks up at the Major, "she was emphatic that you couldn't return to her hospital. I guess this is why."

Captain Yamato threads his fingers together, looking thoughtful. "These are serious allegations," he says. "If Dr. Yakushi is guilty of what Dr. Haruno has accused him of, he'll face the firing squad."

"Wait a second!" Naruto snaps. He doesn't know what the hell is happening, and it seems like everyone else around him does. And he's had enough of it. Dollface is one of his best friends, he's got as much a right to know what's going on as they do, seeing as how they invited him in here in the first place. "What the hell's happening here?"

"Idiot," Sasuke snaps. "Sakura thinks that Yakushi's a German spy."

Naruto's eyes widen. He knew that creepy jerk was bad news, but nothing's worse than being a traitor to your own side. Feeding the Germans information?

"So…that bit in there about the US officers…"

"Exactly, Uzumaki," the Major murmurs gravely. "She believes that, in Dr. Yakushi's care, several of our allied officers were assassinated by Yakushi using a high dosage of KCN. Potassium cyanide. Not many would think to conduct a thorough autopsy on a soldier in a military hospital; it's understood that if he passes, it's due to injuries sustained on the battlefield. It's why Yakushi remained off our radar for so long. Dr. Haruno figured it out, it seems."

"All this, you know from that one little note?" Naruto demands. "Then does it say where she is now? Because Sasuke's about to go crazy."

"We don't know anything for sure," Captain Yamato corrects him. "It's speculation, and Dr. Haruno's word against a respected British physician. Without hard evidence, we can't prove anything."

"But you believe her, right?" Naruto presses.

"I've never met her before," Captain Yamato replies, fairly. "But I know Dr. Yakushi…we are both from London, and our paths have crossed. Despite his skill…he's been known to have an unusually high mortality rate."

"Meaning?"

"All doctors lose patients," the Major explains patiently, while Sasuke paces the floor of the tent, looking wild. "Even Dr. Haruno. But for the truly outstanding physicians, like both she and Dr. Yakushi, having many of them die under their care is highly irregular. Even…suspicious. Dr. Haruno pieced it together before we could. And she slipped this note to me, entrusting me to figure out what she was trying to say in case she wasn't around to say so herself. And I believe that she is right."

"So if he's the mole to the Germans, if he's the one who gave up 414's position, who's he taking orders from?" Sasuke demands.

"That's what we've got to figure out," the Major says flatly. "That's what myself, Captain Yamato, and Company 742 will be attempting to find. Along with you, Uzumaki. Sasuke, I have a different mission for you."

He stands on his crutches and crosses the tent to stand right in front of Sasuke, who's breathing hard like he's run a marathon.

"Do you remember what I told you the moment you were named captain?" he asks him.

"Those who abandoned their comrades are worse than trash," Sasuke recites, like a schoolboy. "You expect me to abandon my troops, so I can…"

"So you can find Dr. Haruno," the Major finishes, and Sasuke's eyes go wide as he realizes what's going on. "This is a solo mission, Captain. Off the books and off the record. Dr. Haruno might not be in uniform like the rest of us, but to say she isn't one of us is an insult to who she is and what she's done for this Army. You're to find her, Captain. At whatever cost."

Naruto's shocked. This is unheard of. Sasuke's being relieved of his duty as Captain, to go and do exactly what he wants to do more than anything else: find out what happened to Dr. Haruno. Why she disappeared.

Sasuke looks stunned, before he nods firmly. Curtly. Accepting his mission.

"There's one more thing, Sasuke," the Major says quietly. "Before you go. Prior to her disappearance, Dr. Haruno was involved in an…altercation."

Sasuke freezes. His hand flies to his gun on instinct. "With who?" he grinds out, but Naruto guesses first.

"Our intel reveals that she met with Dr. Yakushi the night she disappeared," the Major continues. "And that during the liasion, she attacked him. Dr. Yakushi sustained a gunshot wound to the jaw; apparently, the bullet skimmed him and with quick medical attention, he's expected to make a full recovery. The problem, however, is that no one outside of this tent and apart from Dr. Haruno herself knows why they spoke in the first place."

"Shit," Sasuke swears, but again, Naruto just has no idea what's going on.

"Can someone please tell me what the _hell_ this means?" he demands, forgetting that he's supposed to be respectful.

No one corrects him. The atmosphere in the tent is too tense, too grave, to worry about something like a hotheaded New York city cop going off half-cocked.

"It means that as of this moment, in accordance with Dr. Yakushi's testimony," the Major says in serious tones, "an arrest warrant has been issued for Dr. Sakura Haruno. The charges: conspiracy to commit murder."

Naruto's jaw _drops._ Dollface, on the lookout for _murder?_

"Let me make this perfectly plain, Sasuke. If you do not succeed in finding her before anyone else…German, British, American alike…she will face a tribunal."

A tribunal. A _tribunal._

Naruto knows what that means.

If Sasuke doesn't find Sakura, she's going to prison.

If Sasuke doesn't find Sakura, she's going to die.

* * *

Sasuke leaves slickly, quietly, stealthily, without a goodbye to anyone. Not even to Naruto, who watches him go while everyone else is sleeping. Armed with nothing but a pistol and all the determination in the world, he slips away like a shadow on his one-man mission. No explanations. No recriminations. He's just gone.

Naruto knows there's no one better suited to this mission on the planet than Sasuke Uchiha. Ghetto beat cop from the Bronx. Off to save the fair maiden wrongly accused of a crime…the fair maiden that saved all of their asses at the cost of everything she had.

Naruto's promotion to 'Captain' by Major Hatake that evening doesn't feel much like an honor.

In war, even your dream come true can be a nightmare if you tweak the circumstances right.

Still, he writes to Miss Hinata. Tells her to be brave and hang on till he gets there. Leaves out details about Sasuke and Dollface. Tells her he's starting a top-secret investigation mission in the morning.

Signs it 'Captain Uzumaki'.

Falls asleep with her picture in his hand. The only two people in the world who would care that he's finally got this pretty picture of his pretty dame back home aren't there to see it, though.

He's alone.

* * *

**note..** heyyyy. :) thanks for your patience, everyone. getting back into the swing of this one, and having fun with it again. hope you enjoyed it. i won't make you wait so long next time :)

leave some love!

xoxo daisy jane.


	14. Interlude

France

Somewhere. Does it matter?

SASUKE

_He doesn't want to be here._

_It's a beautiful day outside, and with his deployment coming up so quickly, he just wants to enjoy these last few days in the United States. In the South, it's warm even in the winter, this season even more so. The sun is out but it's not too hot, and there's a decent wind pulling through the trees. You don't get that kind of closeness to nature in New York City. Best you can hope for is lucking into a taxicab with windows that don't get stuck._

_He's not afraid to go overseas. Hell, his brother died protecting his country, and he's ready to do the same. He fully expects to die in Europe; hopefully he goes out like a hero. So knowing he's more than willing to give the ultimate sacrifice, why does he need to be here? In this dingy military hospital with its crisp white bedsheets and sterile smell and…_

"_Uchiha, Sasuke!" calls a light, feminine voice, and Sasuke looks up, almost bored, to see a small young woman with soft pink curls calling his name from a clipboard. She doesn't look up, so she doesn't see the unabashed way he gives her the once over before standing up with a sigh._

"_Here, Nurse," he says lazily._

_The woman looks up at that, and he's struck by the sudden fire in her electric green eyes. She's young and reminds him of a film queen, but in her eyes is a storm. A hurricane, almost. She barely clears his collarbone in the practical heels she's wearing, but there's something about her that's almost…terrifying._

"_I am _Dr. _Haruno," she says pointedly, placing a heavy emphasis on the 'doctor' part. And Sasuke knows that he can't be the only young, talented prodigy in his field, but he finds the whole 'doctor' bit a little hard to believe. She looks barely out of high school. "And I'll be giving you your examination, Captain. After you."_

_With that, she gestures to her office, and sure enough, Sasuke sees the name _Sakura Haruno, MD _emblazoned on the glass in thick, black, authoritarian letters. He raises his eyebrows and ignores the snickers from his men behind him, waiting to be checked by the other doctors, and instead follows Dr. Haruno inside her office as ordered._

_He's annoyed her already, that much is obvious. He can see it in the clench of her jaw as she washes her hands thoroughly in the sink. And he rolls his eyes at that and takes an unwilling seat on the exam table, arms folded, almost daring her to touch him. Many women before her have tried and failed._

_She discards a paper towel after drying her hands with it, then sighs in a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "What is it with you soldiers?" she demands with an airy, irritated laugh. "The pride and joy of America, but all of you cower in a hospital like grammar school children."_

_Sasuke flinches. It's not every day a five-foot-nothing little doctor dame has the gall to insult his masculinity. He is not _afraid_ of hospitals. Is it too much to want to skip out on this unnecessary check-up (he's fit as a fiddle and everyone knows it) and soak up a little Southern sunshine before flying overseas to his certain death?_

"_I'm not cowering, ma'am," he corrects her, his tone forcibly polite but his eyes as menacing as he can make them as he stares her down. He feels vulnerable in this position, elevated on the exam table, like she's in a sniper's nest with a perfect mark between his eyes. This is her turf. It feels like enemy territory. _

"_Well, begging your pardon, Captain. But the officers are usually a little more squeamish than the regulation privates. If you can unclench your entire body for a few moments, I'd love to take a look at your heart and lungs. Shirt off, please, Captain."_

_Sasuke glares as hard as he can but he's been ordered to be here at this stupid waste-of-time checkup, and it wouldn't reflect on him well as a captain to hurl the pretty little doctor out the window on account of her smart mouth. So with all the animosity in the world, he unfolds his arms, tugs his white T-shirt over his head, and grips the taupe-colored exam table until his knuckles bleach._

_If Nurse Har…Dr. Haruno notices, she pretends not to. Instead, she inserts her stethoscope into her ears, brushing aside ringlets to do so, and presses the cool metal against the skin of his chest. He resists the urge to hiss at the cold as she instructs him to breathe in and out very slowly. Instead, he eyes her up less like a dame and more like a Nazi, judging for weaknesses, never relaxing his guard._

_She's intent on her work, pink eyebrows drawn together in a frown, red lips pursed as she listens for a heart murmur or a lung defect or something else Sasuke never bothered to learn about in school. She moves lightly from area to area, her fingers occasionally brushing against his skin and he battles back a shiver that has nothing to do with the temperature of her diabolical instrument._

"_Your heart sounds good, Captain," she informs him after a few seconds pass, with a sly smile. "Though if the rumors about your reputation are true, I'm surprised to have found a heart in there at all."_

_She's got a mouth on her, that's for sure, and it's not the way Sasuke was brought up in his brief military tenure to speak to a comrade, a _woman_ at that, but the words are out before he can stop them._

"_You get paid to shoot off at the mouth to all your patients, or is it just the officers?" he demands._

_The doctor looks taken aback by his reaction, frozen in her labcoat and her pretty pink dress with her stethoscope halfway out of her ears. Then she smiles, beautifully, and Sasuke feels his breath catch in her throat. Maybe there's something wrong with his lungs, and she just missed it._

"_I get paid to make sure you don't die before you get over there," she says. "Shooting off at the mouth is just something I do to pass the time."_

_He's got to give her credit. She's not afraid of him._

_And he's only a bit afraid of her._

* * *

_In one week, she's the darling of Company 742. Naruto calls her Dollface._

_Sasuke calls her Slim._

_She cleared him for deployment, of course, him and the rest of his men, but she sticks around with some of the other doctors to help out where she can. Almost like she needs to be involved somehow, more than the average doctor. She starts them all on an exercise and nutrition program, and teaches them the basics of first aid._

"_You'll need to know how to wrap wounds," she tells them in her strict, no-nonsense tone one evening at their barracks, but the authoritarian way she speaks is contradicted by the concern in her eyes. She's steel-tough and hard-as-nails on the outside, but inside, she's just as sweet and kind as she looks. "Now pay attention; this could save your lives if you're in a combat zone with limited medical resources available to you."_

_Sasuke pays attention to her instructions half-assed, same as the other men are doing. He sighs in irritation, because why didn't the army think of this before? Having a bunch of estrogen-deprived men kept in close quarters away from women for weeks at a time, then prancing out the prettiest dame on the East Coast to teach them all about the human body? It's a disaster. No one's watching her work. Nearly everyone's locked onto her face, ogling her like she was Ms. Katharine Hepburn herself._

_And oh, how they fight._

_He's never met anyone who could get on his nerves quite like she can. Between her overbearing concern and her propensity to crack wise and mouth off at him, she's almost always on his mind. He finds himself finding more and more excuses to be around her, whether it's delivering medical equipment to the hospital she's stationed at, or needing her to bandage his wounded ribs since the other doctors wrap too tight. And she helps him out every time with a smile, even while she scolds him like a schoolboy._

_He wonders if this is what falling in love feels like. Like hanging onto a fraying rope._

_When the fall is inevitable, just a question of when you hit the bottom…is that love?_

_He thinks it might be._

* * *

_She sits on the sand with her legs out in front of her, skirt hiked up around her thighs, the wind pulling through her curly pink hair. It's easily the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, with the setting sun behind her and making her glow, that dreamy smile on her face he only ever sees when no one else is around._

"_You gonna join me, Captain, or just continue to admire the view?" she teases him._

_Sasuke smirks. Two weeks now they've known each other, and it's the eve before deployment. He doesn't know when he'll see her again, but he knows for sure he'll miss the hell out of her mouth._

_And yeah, the rest of her, but nobody knows that._

"_You think too highly of yourself," he tells her, and she laughs before patting the open space on the blanket beside her in invitation. It's not necessarily an order, but Sasuke doesn't mind obeying. The sand is soft and her company is sweet._

_For a few moments, it's just them together on the beach, the warm wind and the gentle rolling of the ocean waves, before she sighs and leans against his shoulder._

"_You gonna miss this, Captain?" she asks him wistfully._

"_This?" he scoffs, thinking of boot camp practices and cramped quarters and the mounting pressures of deploying as an officer._

"_America."_

"_Hn. I don't know."_

"_Sure you will," she says. "Bet you got yourself a sweetheart at home, right? Where's home for you, Captain?"_

"_New York. And there ain't no sweetheart for me, Slim." _Unless you're in the market, that is.

"_I'll miss it," she confides in him. "Home for me, anyway. Philadelphia."_

"_What do you mean, you'll miss it?"_

"_Did you really not know I was coming with you boys?" she asks him, giggling, and he can feel the sound vibrate in his chest._

_Sasuke freezes. He's torn between two powerful emotions: joy that they won't have to separate just yet, and fury that she's joining him overseas. In an active combat zone. He thinks of her, how lovely she is, how unfailingly kind underneath all that Philadelphia sarcasm and her compassion, and can't think of a place less suited for her than Europe in 1942._

"_You would never survive without me," she sniffs. "Naruto refuses to eat army-approved rations, Kiba doesn't know what a vegetable is and Shikamaru smokes enough cigarettes to make a cloud of smog thick enough for Germans to spot for miles around. Face it, Captain. You all need me."_

"_I need you to be _safe,_" Sasuke corrects her harshly. "You're not going anywhere."_

_She sits back up straight and pins him with her fiercest glare. The sunlight shines in her sparkling green eyes and she looks like she's about to catch fire. He's entranced and infuriated by her in equal measure. He wants to shake her. _You can't come with me. You have to stay here. You'll die over there just like me.

"_I requested the transfer," she murmurs coldly. "I'm not backing down, I have no choice."_

"_I won't let you come. It's too dangerous."_

"_Are you saying that just because I'm a woman, I can't have…"_

"_You're MY woman!" he explodes finally, and when she looks at him with round, shocked green eyes, he stands his ground. He won't apologize. "Don't pretend like you haven't known this whole time, Slim. You're no dummy, you knew what was happening here."_

"_I…" she stammers, and he's caught her offguard for once. No ice, no shields, nothing but honest shock. "I…just thought it was only on my end…"_

_An admission. She feels it, too, then. The tide shifting between them. The electricity. The heat._

_It's Slim who makes the first move. Leans in and kisses him sweetly. She tastes like mint and lemon, a curious mix from someone he fully expected to taste sugarsweet and candyspun, but one that's impossibly more attractive. He responds almost instantly. Tosses an arm around her shoulders to pull her closer._

"_We can't…we can't tell anyone," she murmurs breathlessly against his lips, when they pull back for air. "They'd…reassign me, or censure you, or…"_

_So it's to be a love affair, then. An illicit one at that. It makes it all the more exciting, and Sasuke Uchiha cannot believe that he's the type for one of these star-crossed tragic love stories, but here he is. Kissing a pretty doctor on the beach not thirty yards from their barracks, hidden by the sand and the sky._

"_Stay here," he implores, sealing his lips to her throat and nearly losing his mind at her muffled cry of pleasure. Her little hands fist through his hair. Almost painful. He loves it. He loves her. Stay. "Stay, Slim. So I got somethin to come back to."_

"_I can't stay, Sasuke," she whispers, using his real name, and he loves the way it sounds. "You know I can't. I need to be with you. You and the others. I need to help you out. I need to make sure you come back here, if nothing else."_

"_You're stubborn as a mule, Slim."_

_There's no sense in fighting it, or her, or the world anymore. Sasuke knows a lost cause when he sees one. He can't keep Slim here where she's safe; she's a soldier in as many ways as he is, and her duty is overseas. He can't take that from her. She's too necessary._

_And he's too selfish not to want her beside him every step of this suicide mission._

_The sun sets and in the cover of darkness, their bodies meet, in a haze of lust and love (unspoken for now, but ardently felt), in the throes of fierce, electric, passionate connection and cloaked in shadow. Clandestine. Illicit. Wrong._

_Romeo and Juliet in army standards._

"_You listen to me, Slim," he says when it's over and they're panting and she's dazzling with sweat on her skin and her eyes full of starlight. "You listen good. I'm bringing you home when it's over. You understand me? I won't leave you there. I'll bring you back. I'll keep you safe. I swear it."_

_Two weeks and he's in love. Two weeks and he's got a purpose. Two weeks and he's made a promise he'll die before he breaks._

_And she looks up at him and smiles and whispers back, "Yes, sir."_

* * *

Sasuke's promise rings in his ears as he makes his way through the dense forest, a loaded pistol in his hand and hell on his heels.

Was it only months ago, that they sat together on a beach in the States, watching the waves and making vows and letting the world change between them? He can still feel it now, even in the agonizing heat of a European summer. He can still feel the sun on his face, the sting of the sand on his arms.

The silk of her hair on his shoulder.

_I shouldn't have proposed,_ he thinks, resenting his decision with all his heart. _It was the nail in her coffin. She'll go the way of everyone else I ever loved in my lifetime. My parents. My brother. And now my girl._

It feels like another lifetime. And that this is some nightmarish alternate universe, where he's alive and well and she's nowhere to be found. Missing. Traitor.

_Where are you, Slim?_ he thinks, remembering a moonlit night and a Lucky Strike and the greenest eyes in the world. _Stupid girl. I told you to stay._

His mission is simple. His mission is clear. Find Slim. Get her to the right people, before Dr. Yakushi and the others do.

He can picture her fate if he fails. She'll be arrested. Interrogated. Thrown in jail (he doubts they'd waste time on finding her a women's prison), or worse: a concentration camp; if Yakushi's in line with who she accused him of being in line with, if he's a Nazi sympathizer in disguise, then…

_No,_ he thinks harshly. Fiercely. _Never._

He runs even faster, without much of a destination in mind. He's got no other clues to go on than the French village they left earlier, the hospital, the pub. He has no idea where to start looking.

But he knows that he's got to find her. Knows that he's _going_ to find her.

He'll be dead before he accepts any other alternative.

_You hang in there, Slim,_ he thinks furiously. _I won't go home without you._

* * *

__**note..** had to have a little flashback :) next chapter is from sakura's perspective. you'll see what happened after the whole disaster with kabuto at the hospital. any guesses?

thanks for the reviews, guys. you know i don't take writing terribly seriously; i write because i enjoy it. i'm not looking to improve; this isn't a career for me so i'm not interested in concrit. but i love when people enjoy reading what i enjoy writing, and you're all so wonderful about telling me so. thank you very much :)

xoxo daisy. have a good week!


	15. Fugitive

Summer, France, The End

The Doctor Formerly Known as Sakura

The hotel is abandoned. Ransacked, is actually the word she'd use to describe it, but it has the two things she really needs:

Peroxide and a change of clothes.

She's run like hell for what feels like hours and she's so tired, she could collapse. But even if her body's exhausted, adrenaline keeps her going, and she's always been terribly good under pressure. It's what makes her such an excellent surgeon.

It's nearly impossible to process what her next move is going to be, when she's so terrified she can't stop shaking and her thoughts are all racing against each other, each one begging for her attention. Through the fear and adrenaline, she knows what must be done first:

She's got to go into hiding.

But it's not easy to hide a head of pink hair and a showy little dress, and her feet are blistered from running in heels, so that's the first thing that's got to change.

She's not sure if the hotel is French or German, this run-down little shanty in the middle of a deserted town. For sure, though, she knows it was Jewish. She can tell by the way the windows were smashed, the glass broken in, the furniture stolen, the curtains ripped from the walls. And no one's here anymore, which suits her fine. She knows that she can't trust anyone right now, allies or enemies. For right now, she's on her own.

Desperately, she wishes for Sasuke. It's weak of her, to need a man's help so badly, but more than his assistance, she craves his presence. She feels safe with Sasuke, untouchable. Without him, she feels more like she's got a red target painted on her back, standing in the middle of an open field with a hundred Jerries surrounding her. Firing squad. Game over.

_Focus,_ she tells herself harshly, gripping the bottle of peroxide and facing her reflection in the mirror. _Worry later. You've got no time. Do what's got to be done._

And what's got to be done is unsavory for any woman. And Sakura might be a practical, sensible doctor with a rigid sense of right and wrong, but she's also a woman, which means she takes pride in her appearance. She fully believes that she can conquer a surgery theater and look sharp at the same time, and the vain little girl inside her loves her unique pink hair. Definitely not a color you see on most dames stateside. It sets her apart, always has.

And in war-torn Europe, that's the absolute last thing she needs, so it's got to go. This long, beautiful, signature hair of hers, it's got to go. She's got to blend in now, until she gets to safety. And she's not sure where safety _is,_ exactly.

She fingercombs her pink hair to loosen it and crouches close to the grungy, spotted mirror over the broken sink; there's only the glow of a pathetic candle to lend her light, since the electricity was shut off in this place probably months ago. She slides on a pair of operating gloves she happened to have in her satchel and sets about the uncomfortable task of dyeing her hair.

Vanity has no place in war, and if this is what saves her, then so be it.

* * *

When she's done, she's cut bangs to hide some of her face and her pink hair is bleached silvery-blonde. She looks at herself in the spotted mirror and doesn't even recognize herself; in the oversized sweater and skirt she swiped from an abandoned hotel room, with this strange new hairstyle, she looks completely different. Fragile and frightened. Nothing like capable Dr. Haruno.

Good.

The less she looks like the would-be assassin of Dr. Yakushi, the better.

Already, she misses her signature pink locks with girlish longing. She doesn't feel like herself at all, not without the rosy color that people have come to associate with the spunky Philly doctor, and it's not like her to put so much weight into something as silly as a hairstyle – but it feels like an ending, more than a necessary evil. The end of her life as Dr. Haruno, and the beginning of her life as…as somebody different.

She doesn't know who she can trust at this point. She doesn't know if Kabuto survived her clumsy assassination attempt; if he lived, he would have told every American in Europe that she'd attacked him for no reason. The penalty for trying to kill your comrades was death.

And if she succeeded? She'll be blamed for it anyway. Without a chance to explain her actions, without a chance to accuse Dr. Yakushi and prove his treason, she looks like the traitor. It's _her_ the tribunal will be gunning for.

And if she's discovered by the _Germans?_ A paperless, homeless, penniless woman with an American accent? She'll be shuttled off to a concentration camp faster than she can blink. Germans don't need proof that she's enlisted to treat her like a war criminal.

As much as she resents the idea, as much as she _despises_ it, she knows there is only one option for her:

She's got to flee.

Get the hell out of Europe.

And it won't be easy, without papers. It's not like she can simply sail back to the States under her own name, not if she's an enlisted army doctor; that's defection. On top of that, she's now embroiled herself in a murder (or attempted murder) scandal, and to be caught leaving her service after her involvement in the attack on Dr. Yakushi is revealed? She'd be court martialed. Jailed.

And to stay in Europe, France or Germany or Spain or _wherever,_ is _suicide._ No matter who finds her, unless it's Sasuke or one of the boys from Company 742, she's as good as dead. Until she can prove Kabuto's guilt, she's a sitting duck and she's got to leave.

Switzerland is looking like a definite option. It's neutral. Not involved in the war like Germany and Poland and everywhere else. She could find sanctuary there, while preparing her case against Kabuto. She has no idea where she is, though, so that might make finding a country she's never been to all the more difficult, but she recalls from Geography that Switzerland is nestled between France and Germany, so no matter where she's at, she's close.

Another option is further away, harder to get to, more dangerous. She could make her way into Morocco, but that's a different continent. And even if she would be farther away from the concentration camps she fears so much…

She'd be further away from him. From Sasuke.

And with no way of telling him what happened, no way of telling if he's okay or even _alive…_

She remembers with a sinking feeling the alarms that went off in the hospital that night. She'd fled the hospital before finding out what those alarms meant; it could have been anything, just an influx of new patients…it could have been Sasuke and the others, though. Brought in on stretchers. Dying. Dead.

But she physically can't imagine that, not without breaking, so she tells herself he's fine. Too stubborn to die. Too stubborn to move on from her.

Stubborn enough to wait.

_I'll find him when I can,_ Sakura tells herself desperately. _I will. But for now…I have to get out of here._

She grips the tiny vial of potassium chloride, tucked into the pocket of her stolen sweater. This is the evidence she needs to take Dr. Yakushi down. This little bottle of poison, that was responsible fro the deaths of so many brave American officers, is what she needs to clear her name and accuse the guilty party. It's the most important thing in her universe right now.

(And if she's caught? She'll need it then, too. Because she'd sooner die than step foot in a concentration camp.)

* * *

Because Sakura used to be a military doctor (before a few hours ago, when all that went up in smoke), she knows some of the Allied bases scattered across the European countryside. Not all of them, of course, no one except maybe the Major has that kind of security clearance, and Sakura isn't a field medic or an officer, she's a doctor. Or she used to be, before she betrayed her commander and tried to kill him.

Nonetheless, she knows some of the bases.

More importantly, she knows the base she's got to head to.

The USO entertains soldiers overseas. Comedians come from the States to offer the troops a laugh or two, and there are a ton of singers and dancers to give the boys a much-needed respite from the constant carnage and uncertainty of war. It's a great program, even if it is a bit risky and flighty for her tastes.

It's what's going to save her.

Because Sakura has a friend, a best friend, named Ino Yamanaka, and Ino is as risky and flighty as they come, but she is the one person on the face of the earth (besides Sasuke, of course, and maybe Naruto) that she trusts more than anyone else. And Sakura's friend Ino is a USO dancer, and if Sakura's memory serves her (and it always does), then Ino's dance troupe will be performing for a week in a place called Chantilly.

_I can blend in there,_ she thinks, desperately, creeping along through the forest with no name and very little direction. _With Ino's troupe, and with Ino's help. If I can just make it to them and explain to her what's going on, maybe she can put me in her group. Give me an alias or something, so I'm not just a sitting duck! Just till I can find a way to communicate with Major Hatake, and explain what's really happening!_

There's no way she can make it all the way to safety by herself, especially because she doesn't even know where safety is. She can't very well return to the hospital – she'd be shot on sight – and without any papers, she can't return to America. And here, skirting the line between Germany and German-occupied France, an American with a heavy accent and questionable loyalties, she's as good as dead.

She'll need a cover, and Ino can give her that.

Finding the town, though, is a challenge. It's not that she doesn't have a good sense of direction; it's that she can't risk being seen, so she can't take the main roads. Troops – German and Allied alike – constantly patrol the roads winding in and out of the forest, and to be caught by either one of them before reaching Ino would be suicide. So she has to stay close to the roads to avoid losing her way, without actually touching them.

And she's tired. So tired, and very hungry, and incredibly scared. But fear is an excellent motivator. Sakura knows this from a medical perspective. It sharpens your senses, heightens your awareness.

It has always amazed her, the incredible feats man can accomplish when his back is against the wall.

Or in her case, a firing squad.

Every now and then, as she runs through the woods, and especially now that the sun has risen, she catches a glimpse of herself in the water of the river that crosses the road. She sees bleached blonde hair and doesn't recognize herself, not that primitive ambition that's driving her forward, nor the crippling fear that threatens to bubble over in frightened green eyes. She's a different person right now, focused on surviving, focused on blowing the whistle on the _treason_ taking place in Dr. Yakushi's hospital, focused on seeing her fiancee again and assuring him of her survival and innocence.

And it's when she accepts that she's no longer Sakura Haruno that the fear catches up with her, and she grinds to a halt.

Bursts into tears.

She has no name here, can't afford one. Her own is sullied, her reputation is destroyed, and the very men she's been working so hard to save are going to view her as a monster. She'll be hunted by the same boys she patched up in Basic Training, gunned down by the same boys she shared a beer with at the pub. Her good name dragged through the mud, before she's forced to discard it completely.

And who is she now, without that name? Without the education, the fine training, the cool Philadelphia attitude?

Who is she, except another fearful little girl on the run?

_Is this how they felt?_ She thinks, eyes wide, tears streaming, as she stares at the muddy ground she kneels in. _The Jews, the handicapped, the POW's, the homosexuals…all of them innocent, but hunted down like animals? Forced to hide in mud and dirt, forced to give up their names and homes and identities and loved ones and for what?! Is this how they felt?_

She's spent less than a night as a fugitive, and it feels like she's going out of her mind. But these poor people here in Europe, they've been running from the Nazis for _years._ Families torn apart, holding themselves together under assumed identities, hiding in basements and attics and closets, living a lie just to stay alive.

_I'm a terrible person,_ she thinks sorrowfully, burying her face in her dirty hands and sobbing, the noise muffled in the massive forest but deafening to her own ears. _I'm blind to these horrors until I'm a victim of them._

Sakura knows that she came over here with good intentions. She knows that the Americans are the good guys this time around, unlike so many times in the past, and she's never questioned, even once, if their motives for joining the war are right, because she knows they are.

But this?

She'd never given _this_ much thought. These poor people who have been outrunning and hiding from the tyrannous reach of Adolf Hitler, she'd always pitied them, but then moved on with her day. Focused on other things. Happier things. Going home to the States, with a smartass captain on her arm and maybe a new apartment in New York to look forward to.

But these people? These innocent fugitives on the run from the Nazis? What is in _their_ future?

More running? More hiding? Fake papers, false names, constantly _running?_

Is it only now, that she's directly affected by this travesty, that she accepts how awful it is? That she understands?

_I'm a horrible human being. A selfish, self-centered, ignorant, pathetic human being, and I don't deserve to live._

She grips her fake blonde hair tight enough to hurt, and chokes back a sob of longing. Because even though she doesn't want to think about him right now – knows that he has no place in these dark, dark thoughts of hers – her heart betrays her, and she's brought back to a time before treason and treachery, gunfire and glory, running and running out of time.

She's brought back to a stolen night no one else knows about. Back to the way shadows and moonlight danced across the sharp angles of his jaw, the depth of black-and-silver eyes that made her wild, back to warm hands tracing hot paths up her scorched skin.

"_We'll get in trouble if they catch us," she says with a conspiratorial giggle, before she kisses the hollow of his throat._

_He scowls, displeased that she thinks so little of his skills of evasion. If Sasuke doesn't want to be caught, he won't be. But for his scowl, his hands are tender as they wind up her back and settle in her damp hair. Curls ruined. He wasn't gentle this time._

_They lie on the floor in a medical supply closet at the end of the hallway. It's dark, except for moonlight streaming through the tiny window, and it's hot in the room with no fan to circulate any air. Sasuke's skin is slick and cool with sweat and hers is, too, but this pleases her. She likes the way he loses control, tears her dress, makes her hot; it means he's missed her like she's missed him._

_And neither will admit it if they're asked, but there's something extremely _fun_ about sneaking around behind everybody's back. Everyone knows, but no one confirms, and neither will they._

_She'll settle for this, though. For whatever she can get. For kisses snuck into a closet along with needles and bandages, for the way he clamps his hand over her mouth to keep her quiet, so no one hears them. It's got to be enough, until the war's over. If they survive. If there's a future for them back in the States, and she doesn't know if there will be, so fuck it, fuck this and her self-respect because she LOVES HIM and she'll take whatever he'll deign to give her._

_And she'll give, too. She'll give till it hurts them both, till it kills them both more effectively than any German sniper. _

"_Where you boys headed next?" she asks conversationally, basking in the afterglow for as long as he'll let her._

_His free hand traces empty patterns on the small of her back. "Paris," he says. "Two days."_

"_We'll be following you, then," she sighs, all casual-like, but she's THRILLED to know they won't be separated for very long. She dreads the day when he'll be assigned somewhere she can't follow._

"_You should've stayed home," Sasuke tells her quietly._

_It's her first instinct to react with anger, with frustration that here's another chauvinistic man writing her off as a liability, just because she's a woman. She's not proud of that reaction, or her inferiority complex, but that's the way she feels. So her body stiffens in his grasp and her eyes narrow and she grinds her teeth, but then Sasuke clarifies._

"_But I'm glad you're here," he mumbles, and she lifts her head from the crook of his shoulder and sees him blushing, looking anywhere but at her. "I can keep an eye on you here."_

"_What makes you so sure?" she asks, teasingly, because if she doesn't tease him, then maybe he won't know how desperately, relentlessly, all-encompassingly she's fallen in love with him. "I'm quite the troublemaker, you know."_

"_No shit, Slim," he chuckles._

"_And at least we'll be together, right?" she attempts, hopefully._

_Sasuke looks at her and his eyes soften. And he threads his fingers through hers, callused and experienced, and he brings her hand to his chapped, swollen lips._

"_I won't go home without you," he promises quietly._

_And just like that, she stops falling in love._

_Because she's hit the bottom and there's nowhere further to fall._

* * *

It's raining when Sakura picks herself up off the ground and plows on ahead. A vague, indistinguishable finish line is in her sights, and it takes the form of a sleepy little village soaked with summer rain.

Chantilly. She's made it.

Now, to find Ino. Because if she can find Ino, then maybe she's not just another poor lost cause waiting to live or die in France.

Maybe there's a future for her that isn't written in death and destruction.

And maybe, just maybe, she'll see him again.

* * *

**note..** heyyyyy. :)

xoxoxox daisy


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